Faith, Hope, and Love
by jaded79
Summary: My first fanfic... a story focusing on Daryl and Carol and how they grow and evolve within the context of themselves, their relationship, and the group.  Other characters will be developed collaterally through what Daryl and Carol see, hear, and think.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** – This is my first fan fiction so I'm a little nervous about posting it. I have an idea on where I'm going with this and expect it will take a few chapters to get there. Rated M for future chapters as I've never been good at censoring myself. Plus I expect some of this will be from Daryl's POV and who would want to censor a character as great as him? I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it and please read and review!

**Disclaimer** – I own nothing and I give full credit to the creators and masterminds behind the Walking Dead.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1 – What is Honor?<p>

_A man of honor…_ _What was I thinking? Saying that… to Daryl… ugh. _Carol didn't know what to think anymore. She berated herself for her conversation with Daryl the night before. But she couldn't help how she felt. She felt herself becoming more of a burden each day, but she was struggling. She'd lost it all… Ed - not that he was much to lose after hating him but still needing him for so long. Oh how she hated him, but he'd been her husband and despite it all, there was an obligation to feel some kind of loss there…no matter how small it was. But Sophia. Sophia was everything. Sophia had been the light of her life from the moment she was born. The one good thing to come from Ed. The one good thing to come from HER. Without Sophia, who was she? Not Ed's wife anymore. Not Sophia's mother. She was nothing. What was she worth to any of these people?

She looked up at the sound of footsteps a few yards away, and her eyes caught briefly with Daryl's as he walked out of the woods towards his makeshift sleeping area. They didn't have any tents after leaving the farm in such a hurry, so they all had to make do with what they had. He didn't acknowledge her, just met her eyes briefly and glanced away.

Daryl. He felt so familiar to her… like a dream. Half the time, she thought she knew him so well, and the rest of the time she wanted to scream in frustration at him.

He wasn't Rick's henchman. She knew that. Daryl clearly thought for himself and if he helped Rick… it was because he wanted to help Rick… it was because he respected Rick… and it was because he was a part of this group and every bit as good a man as Rick was. Is?

Rick was a good man. Rick is a good man. Carol knows this, but she was struggling. She couldn't put together the Rick from Dale's funeral – talking about pulling together, proving Dale wrong, honoring Dale by doing it his way – with the Rick from last night. The Rick who killed Shane, and lied about them all being infected. Ok, it wasn't lying so much as omitting. He didn't tell them. But how could he not tell them. It seems like such vital information. Even if he didn't know that it was true, he could have said something! Some kind of warning. And Shane. Everyone could tell that Shane was off… that something wasn't right there. But somehow she didn't quite believe that Rick killing Shane was entirely about self-defense, and it wasn't entirely about doing it for the good of the group. Sure that was probably some of it. But some part of her couldn't help thinking that it wasn't that black and white… that on some level, Rick wanted to kill Shane - for reasons that were probably entirely his own and had nothing to do with the good of the group.

Did it even matter? Did any of what they did these days even matter? She wanted a man of honor… but what does honor even mean in this world? She didn't know where to go from here. She could hear the others beginning to stir, to come alive to greet the new day. A day where nothing is safe; and nothing is the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **– I'm a little unsure on my Daryl POV. I want to be true to the character in the show, while still allowing my muses to work with "my personal opinions" of Daryl. Please read and review! I hope you like and criticism is always welcome too.

**Disclaimer **– As usual, I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2 – Safe for Now<p>

_What kind of woman 'xpects a fuckin man to have honor during the fuckin apocalypse?_ Daryl huffed out a breath. Rick's got honor. Fuckin cop's got more honor than any fuckin one of 'em.

Daryl wondered sometimes why he was still here. With these people. They weren't his friends. Weren't his family. He didn't owe 'em nuthin. Hell, they didn't even like 'im probably so what the fucking fuck was he still doing here.

He had his chance last night, he s'posed. He coulda left while Rick was yelling about postcards and shit. But he didn't. Truth was, Rick was decent. Probably the most decent of anyone Daryl had ever met. Sure, he left Merle handcuffed on a roof, but Daryl knew best of anyone that Merle wasn't always the easiest jackass to live with. And Rick did go back to Atlanta. He had good intentions, Daryl s'posed. Hell, Daryl even thought that Rick felt bad bout Merle sometimes. Rick was honor, if there's even such a thing.

And what the fuck should Daryl know bout honor, anyways? Damn woman always lookin at him like he's s'posed to know what to do. Like he's s'posed to take care of her.

He ain't nobody's henchman. Daryl Dixon does whatever the fuck Daryl Dixon wants to do. 'Cept when Merle's around. Daryl shrugged that thought off. Merle's not around. He don't have to listen to Merle no more. He don't have to listen to anyone unless he fuckin wants to. And right now… for right now he's got no problems listenin' to Rick.

He stepped out of the woods into the clearing and saw Carol sitting across the way. Their eyes met and he could hear her voice from last night… small and trembling… "and I'm a burden." An emotion somethin' like shame fell over him and he glanced away from her, moving away from her quickly towards his stuff lying in a jumbled pile between two trees. Wasn't the best bed he ever slept in, but it wasn't the worst neither.

_Carol_. She was the first person he thought of when he woke, and the last before he laid down. Her face flickered before him when he slept like some kinda ghost-dream-siren-without-song… and he hated it. Or he liked it. Or he didn't fuckin know anymore. Damn woman had him so fuckin conflicted he couldn't tell which part of the squirrel to shoot.

They hadn't spoken much after that night he tried to scare her off. Truthfully, he didn't know what to say after. What the hell do ya say after a woman just lets ya unleash on 'er? Last night was pretty much the longest conversation they'd had since, but he figured that snatching her off the farm with Merle's… er… his… er… the bike or whatnot probably was as good an apology as any. He remembered the way her fingers dug into his waist as she held on. The way she trembled holding on… practically vibrated against him just as hard as the bike vibrated under them both. He'd be willing to bet that was her first time on a bike.

He leaned back against the tree and let his head bang against the bark a little too hard. Intentionally. He wanted to bash the thought of her out of his head. The thought of her voice as she breathed thanks in his ear as they rode off… just loud enough to hear over the rumble of the motor. The feel of her breasts trembling against his back. The idea that if he hadn't heard her… if he hadn't known… if he'd been too late… that… she'd…that she'd be… He breathed out hard and brought his head back against the bark again.

It didn't matter. He'd heard her. He'd gotten there in time. And she was safe… for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **– I know it's a slow pace, but please bear with me. I have every intention of ramping up the excitement, but I feel like I need to do some set up first. I know a lot people like the Walking Dead for the zombies, but I like the Walking Dead for the people and for the relationships so I plan to work with that while also giving attention to the zombies as well. Also, I feel like I need to apologize for the grammar in the Daryl POV sections. I'm a real grammar stickler so I'm struggling on writing things incorrectly intentionally. Bear in mind that most grammar errors are intentional although I'm sure I do them accidentally as well. Please read and review!

**Disclaimers **– I feel like a broken record, but I don't own the Walking Dead or the characters. Wish I did though, then I could be rich. :)

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 – On the Move<p>

Rick wanted them on the move first thing. Once they were up, they ate what little provisions Lori and Carol had thought to grab from the house before leaving the farm. There wasn't much. A few cans of peaches, tuna, and lima beans; a jar of peanut butter, and a loaf of bread. Not exactly the breakfast of champions but it would get them all through the day.

What the day was to bring, though, they had no idea.

Daryl looked up at her as she approached. He would have known it was her even without looking though. Something about those soft, hesitant footsteps just screamed 'Carol' to him.

"Whatd'ya want?" He spoke gruffly. Probably more rudely than he meant to, judging by the sheepish look that came over his face when she handed him the sandwiches she'd made him. He accepted it and nodded. His way of saying thank you. Something about the way his eyes burned into hers made her stomach flip. She smiled.

She turned to walk away, but stopped at hearing his voice - "You eat?" She looked back, "I'm going to." "Should worry more bout gettin' ya'self fed and less bout me," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Anger – or was it annoyance? – flashed through her, but all she said was, "you're welcome, Daryl." _Is it so hard for him to take a kindness? _

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before they came upon the nearest town. It couldn't have come sooner far as anyone was concerned. Rick's vehicle was running on fumes since they started, and even Daryl's bike needed fueling. The town seemed empty but they were being cautious all the same. The women went with Glenn to go grab some supplies at the only store. They'd need food, blankets, whatever they could find to get them through a few days until they came up with a more permanent plan.<p>

Daryl stood watching Carol's back as she went off with Glenn and the others. She had glanced at him before going. Almost like she'd had something to say, but then she shook her head to herself and went off following behind Lori.

Daryl glanced over at Rick. He was watching Lori the same as Daryl had been watching Carol. It hadn't escaped Daryl's notice that Rick and Lori hadn't shared the same sleeping arrangements last night. She hadn't so much as looked at him yet today, and from what Daryl could tell… Rick had to make his own damn sandwich.

"Ya sure they be a'right?" Daryl said almost against his will. He was compelled to ask, but he didn't want to. He didn't really want to care, but he did.

Rick didn't look at him, but he nodded and mumbled a quiet, "Yea."

_Fuck. Rick's gotta snap outta this shit. Get hi'self killed bein' distracted like this. Or worse, get me killed._ It occurred to Daryl – like a ton of bricks – that for the first time in months, he actually cared if he got killed or not. For months, years maybe, Daryl hadn't cared much bout anything or anyone. 'Cept maybe Merle. But that's his brother… his blood… he had to care for Merle no matter what. Even when Merle beat his ass, or drug his ass into a fight he didn't start nor want no part of, it was his job to care bout Merle. But Daryl never cared much about himself. When he fell in the woods and ended up with his own arrow in his side, when he practically bled to death dragging his ass back to the farm, that wasn't bout keeping hi'self alive. That was about getting that damn doll back. That was bout finding Sophia… keeping her alive. And by keeping Sophia alive - keeping Carol alive.

_Fuck_. When did he start caring bout people? When did he start caring bout hi'self of all people.

_Fuckin Merle would call me a pussy if he was here. Beat the shit outta me the way I let these people get to me. _He pushed the thought aside. It don't matter what Merle thinks no more. What matters is what Daryl thinks. He's not Merle's little brother anymore. He's Daryl motherfucking Dixon and he does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. He don't answer to nobody.

He cleared his throat. He needs to get Rick to snap out of this shit. Damn guy hadn't moved since Lori left. "Rick, ya gotta know… don't matter what happened with Shane out there in those woods… seems to me ya did what ya had to."

Rick looked over at Daryl. There was silence for a moment and Daryl was sure he could hear the damn birds chirping – fucking birds, don't they know there ain't nuttin to chirp for no more – for how quiet it was, waiting for fuckin Rick to say something.

Rick nodded, "Let's get this done and get out of here."

_Finally. Fuck. _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – **I love reviews! You all are awesome with your comments! Thank you so much for reviewing and I hope you like this next chapter...

**Disclaimer – **Same as before. I own nothing, yadda yadda, blah blah.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4 – Expect the Unexpected<p>

Daryl was loading camping supplies into the back of the truck when he heard the scream. It was loud, and it echoed around him. "Beth! That was Beth!," yelled Hershel from the side of Glenn's vehicle where he had but a minute ago been pumping gas. Rick ran out of the sporting goods store dropping the supplies he was carrying on the ground.

"I can't see anything! They must still be inside. There's no walkers out front," yelled T-Dog who had been scouting from the roof of the gas station. He had a direct view of the front and one side of the store that the women and Glenn had gone into.

"Where's Carl?" Rick had moved around the side of the truck and he looked panic-stricken at the empty front seat.

Daryl sighed. It seemed like every other day Carl went missing at one time or another… _Don't these dumbass people teach their kids nuthin? Sit, stay - can't be much harder than trainin' a damn dog..._ he stopped mid-thought as another sound ripped through the air… a gun shot. _What the fuck…_

Hershel was already running towards the front of the store. Rick and Daryl followed.

"T-Dog! Keep an eye out!," Daryl called back over his shoulder. The crossbow was up, and he was ready.

* * *

><p>Carol and Lori were in one of the storage rooms putting food into backpacks found in the store to make stuff easier to carry when Beth had screamed. They were only one room over, and the moment they entered the next room they saw Beth… lying on the floor face down, a pool of blood reflecting off the tile floor, strands of her blonde hair already staining an awful shade of red.<p>

"Move." The voice had said. A man's voice. The voice was hoarse and cruel as something poked Carol in the back. She moved further into the room and Lori followed suit. She turned her head slightly and something was shoved harder into her back – "Don't turn around. I told you to move, bitch." She did what she was told. _I always do what I'm told._ The thought sickened her. But what could she do? She had no weapon. She didn't even know how to really use a weapon.

_How hard can it be? Something sharp – jab him with it. Something hard – hit him with it. _The thought thrilled her. She didn't move her head but she looked around using her eyes as best she could. It was a pretty full store… lots of supplies… they were in the gardening section… there had to be something useful.

Lori whimpered next to Carol when they saw Carl. He was behind the counter, slumped on the floor against the wall. His eyes were closed, and the trickle of blood on his forehead contrasted sharply against his pale white skin. They could see his trademark hat lying on the floor in the next room.

_Where are Glenn and Maggie?_

* * *

><p>Daryl and Rick grabbed Hershel at the entrance of the store before he could cross through the door. "Calm down!," Rick hissed, "We've got to be calm about this."<p>

"Those are my daughters in there!," Hershel growled out. Daryl was impressed. He'd never seen the man so driven.

"I know, and my wife, and Carol, and Glenn. We're going in after them, but we need to be calm about it. We don't know what's in there."

_Carol. _Her name brought a flood of emotion to him. He hadn't forgotten she was in there, but he'd forced himself not to think about it. He couldn't concentrate if he thought about her. He'd be no use to any of 'em if he let hi'self get distracted. A noise grabbed his attention and he whirled around… _Walker… must've been the fuckin gunshot… rang the damn dinner bell. _

He whipped the crossbow up and shot it through the forehead.

They watched the walker - a young girl, dirty, skinny, black hair - crumple to the ground, finally at peace.

"Let's hope she's the only one," Rick said. They all knew they couldn't afford another herd. Not now. Not without knowing what or who is inside that store with their people.

* * *

><p>"Are you alone?" Carol didn't even know she was planning to say something until the words were out of her mouth.<p>

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," the man behind her hissed, "Did I tell you that you could speak?" His accent wasn't southern. He spoke with the same anger though that she'd heard Daryl have at times.

_Daryl. _She shuddered at the thought of him somewhere in this store. _He's coming_. He had to be coming. _There isn't anything in this world that would keep him from coming for me. _Where did that thought come from? But she was sure, so sure, that Daryl would come for her. And at the same time, she was afraid that when he did, something could happen to him. _What if I lose him? _Lose him? Don't you have to HAVE something in order to lose it? _I can't lose him too. _

Carol was filled with fear at the thought of something happening to Daryl… at the thought of losing him too. She had stopped moving… her eyes focused on something just within her reach… not much of a weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. Without thinking, without letting herself feel anything at all, she grabbed for the shovel hung on the rack, and whirled around with it blindly. A gun shot rang out as she connected with something…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – **This is a fairly short chapter. I wanted to get something up because I won't be able to update on the weekends. Although, I say that now and by the time Sunday rolls around I may be going through Walking Dead withdrawals and need to write something. LOL. Thank you again for your reviews! I can't even begin to tell you how awesome you all are! Please read and review!

**Disclaimer - **Nope, I still own nothing.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5 – Victim No More<p>

Only 5 minutes had passed since they'd first heard Beth scream… but it felt like hours to Daryl. They moved quickly through the front of the store; there was no one there… no signs of struggle.

"Carl…," Rick whispered. Towards the back of the store, lying on the floor was the sheriff's hat Carl was always wearing. _Fuckin hell. Fuckin kid needs a damn leash._

They could hear sounds through the open door to the next room. Rick moved along the wall first so that he could look inside.

* * *

><p>Pain shot through Carol's side, but she held on to the shovel… keeping it raised… poised to use it again against the man on his knees in front of them should he give her a reason. <em>Give me a reason.<em>

His head was in his hands. He had long stringy hair, wore a khaki jumpsuit, and he moaned an obscenity. He hadn't expected her to fight back. The gun had skidded across the floor – the shot had been a reflex and the moment the metal of the shovel connected with his skull he'd dropped it – and Lori had grabbed it. Carol was glad Lori was there in that moment. She didn't know what she'd have done if she had to hold the gun.

She'd never used a gun before… never even held one. _I should've taken the lesson from Shane while I had the chance. It was reckless to think I could go this whole time never needing to know how to use a weapon. Stupid. _She was done being a victim. Burden or not, she was done being a victim. She vowed in that moment to seek Daryl out after… if… no, _when_ they made it out of this store safe and sound, and to get his help learning how to use a weapon.

* * *

><p>Rick nodded his okay and they stepped across the threshold into the other room.<p>

"Beth." Hershel gasped, but didn't make a move towards his daughter lying face down across the room.

The first thing Daryl saw was Carol. Her back was to him, her hands gripped tightly around the handle of a gardening shovel, and everything else slipped away when he saw the blood seeping across the back of her gray shirt. Rick moving forward brought Daryl out of his trance. He re-focused his attention on the matter at hand.

Rick went around Lori to subdue the man on the floor. He pinned him down and, using some rope that Daryl tossed him, tied the stranger's hands behind his back. Hershel went to Beth. _Not much the Doc's gonna be able to do there. _

Lori went to Carl, "He's alright, he's out though. Must've been knocked on the head pretty hard."

"Hershel?," Rick spoke hesitantly. Hershel stood, his back to them. He merely shook his head. His shoulders shook as he bent over, his hands going to his knees. _Damn._

Daryl was watching Carol. She hadn't moved. She still held the shovel; her body had begun to shake though. He went to her, took the shovel from her gently. She was crying. He hated when she cried. He had no idea what the fuck to do with himself when she cried. _Damn woman. _He didn't know if he was thinking it about her or about himself at that moment.

Tears were streaming down her face but she still hadn't made a sound. Without the shovel to give her strength, her hands fell down at her side. "Ya a'ight? Ya bleedin'…," Daryl said, placing the shovel against the wall. He wanted to touch her. Every fiber of his being was telling him to take her in his arms and never let go. But he didn't. _Not my place. _What is his place here again? He felt uncomfortable. His face was hot, and his hands were itchin' to touch her. He clenched them instead. He cleared his throat.

She looked at him before moving her hand to touch the left side of her torso, "Oh! Would you look at that...," she seemed surprised. She carefully rolled the side of her shirt up. He cringed, but not at the blood. He could handle blood and gore. Hell, he'd seen it all and then some. What he couldn't handle was the sight of Carol's pale skin beneath that shirt. _Perfect_. The word reverberated around his skull like a marble, bouncing around like his head was a damn pinball machine. _Oh what the fuck… the woman's been shot for crissake. Knock this shit the fuck off and pull yourself together goddamnit. _

"Hey Doc…," Daryl started to say but Carol shushed him, putting the hand not holding her shirt to his lips. She shook her head.

"I'm fine. Really, it's fine. It went straight through. Barely even hit me, really... I just need something to put some pressure on it, stop the bleeding. " As she glanced around for something, Daryl grabbed a semi-clean rag out of his pocket and handed it to her. _Like hell yer fine. _But he said nothing. "Thanks," she nodded looking up at him. He couldn't look away, her gaze held him captive. She was so pale. "Daryl…," she started to say but was interrupted by Rick pulling the man up off the floor back onto his knees.

"Now, who the fuck are you s'posed to be…," Daryl said moving around Carol to help Rick.

The man looked up shaking his head to move the stringy brown hairs out of his line of sight. When he saw Daryl, a look of recognition dawned on his face. The man started to say, "well, if it ain't…" as Daryl brought the end of his crossbow down, bashing it into the man's skull. Rick backed up as the stranger's body sagged back onto the floor. Rick looked up at Daryl, a question in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Carol...

"Where's Glenn and Maggie?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN - **I had to revise and repost this because of ONE LINE. Have you ever posted something and left to go do stuff, and then found yourself obsessing about how one line of it wasn't up to your standards? Because that's what I just did... I literally went an hour and a half running errands thinking about a line of this chapter and how I needed to fix it as soon as I got home. Must be my obsessive personality.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** – Okay, I couldn't resist posting something today. Woke up early just to write. This one is short, but don't worry – I have plans in the next chapter to tie up with this town and get the group on the move again… for better or for worse. And I promise we will find out in Chapter 7 what's going on with Glenn and Maggie! Finally… as soon as I decide which route I want to go with it. I have two directions, both with very different repercussions. And I promise we will also find out how Daryl knows the asshole who killed Beth (and who he is too, of course), but that story's not for Rick to hear... :)

**Disclaimers** - See previous chapters.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – Pulling it Together<p>

Her side ached something fierce, but she kept the rag held tight to stanch the bleeding. Apparently, a gunshot wound hurts just as much as Ed's worst beating. But Carol had lived a lifetime of not complaining about pain, of knowing that a complaint led to just another reason to complain. And Hershel was clearly in no place to care for someone else. He remained at Beth's side, hunched over, head down, shoulders shaking viciously, clearly the pain… the devastation… of losing his youngest clutched him. Only her question brought him back to reality… "Where's Glenn and Maggie?"

Rick – being Rick – sprang into action. "We're gonna get Carl back to the vehicles with Lori and Carol. Take whoever this is back there too and T-Dog can keep an eye on him as well. Not much damage he can do now anyway and he might have some helpful information bout all… this…," he gestured around him with that last word.

"And Beth." Hershel's voice was soft, but strong.

Rick looked at him. "Beth?"

"Yes, we have to take her with us. I have to bury her."

When Hershel had gone to the girl, he had turned her over so that she was lying on her side facing them. Everyone could see the jagged wound across her throat, her eyes open in a sightless stare.

"Hershel," Rick started, "She's gonna turn. Her head… well… her head… umm… it's not damaged… and… and I'm sorry… but she's gonna turn. I'm sorry. She's not Beth anymore, she's one of…"

"She's my daughter! She's my baby girl! What exactly are you telling me here? I can't take her? I can't bury my own flesh and blood?," Hershel roared, "You're not going to shoot my daughter in the head, Rick, I don't give a damn what you say. Over my own dead body will you shoot my little girl in the head. She's not one of them right now, she's MY daughter, and I've lost her, and I WILL bury her!"

Carol looked at Daryl. His head was down and – as usual – he said nothing, but she was sure there were a million thoughts in his head. Daryl wasn't all he seemed, and she knew that better than anyone. She saw no happy conclusion to this argument between Hershel and Rick. Were there any happy conclusions in this life anymore?

"We can tie her, wrap her in something, and bring her with us. I can keep an eye on her while you look for Glenn and Maggie.," Carol said. Hershel looked up at her, gratitude shining in his eyes. _I know. _She nodded to him._ I understand. In a few years, if I'd had just a few more years with her, Sophia would have been almost that age. With probably that same blonde hair… oh Sophia. I miss you so much. _

* * *

><p>He was pissed. He didn't want to be pissed, but he couldn't help it. <em>Fuckin woman, always fuckin takin' care of ev'rybody else. Woman's fuckin bleedin' and goddamn volun-fuckin-teers to watch the dead girl. Fuck. Feel plenty bad bout this shit m'self but that's a fuckin time bomb, ya ask me. What the fuck are ya'll thinkin'. <em>

T-Dog had plenty of questions but they'd had no time to answer any of 'em. Daryl, Rick, and Hershel headed off back towards the store and surrounding buildings in search of Maggie and Glenn. Daryl hated to admit it, but he was just as keen on finding them as everybody else. He liked Glenn, though like hell would he cop to that if he was asked. And Maggie had spark. If Daryl believed in happily-fucking-ever-after love stories, he'd definitely think Glenn and Maggie had them one.

"So what was that back in the store?," Rick asked. Daryl huffed. _Shoulda known._

"Fuckin' long motherfuckin' story…" _Or jus' none of ya damn fuckin business._ "Not much worth tellin'," Daryl said.

The heavy silence between them was evidence that Rick disagreed with Daryl on that, but all he said was, "Well, just tell me this, and this is a dumb question considering Beth and all… but that guy's a threat?"

Daryl grunted, "Bad fuckin' one." Rick nodded to himself. "Rick…", Daryl started, "First chance ya given, ya kill that motherfucker. Not worth keepin' him 'round."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N – **Seven is my favorite number so I wanted to make this chapter really intense. It's long, but I had a lot I wanted to fit in here. I feel bad for the Greene family, as clearly this was not a good day for Beth, Maggie, or Hershel. I will find a way to make it up to them in the future.

For anyone wondering about the line change in Chapter 5 – it was the "Like hell yer fine" line. It originally said something else – You're not fine – something that I think was a little less Daryl. I forget sometimes to write in his character and have to revise a lot.

I am definitely working towards more Daryl and Carol interaction, but I don't want to make it all fluff so I'm getting there… just slowly. Bear with me. I want their romance to feel gradual and realistic because they are such complicated characters. I LOVE reading the fluff stuff about them on this site, and I'm sure I'll write some of my own at some point but I'm hoping to keep this story as real as I can.

Thank you so much for all the great reviews! They mean so much and they make me want to keep writing! I appreciate it so, so, so much! Please read and review again. Also, question for **irishtwimom**- what do you mean by Daryl/Carol lemon? When I asked my husband (rhetorically, of course) he responded with it was a yellow fruit, kind of sour (smart ass). HAHA. I'd love to know what you mean though and I'm definitely interested in expanding my repertoire.

**Disclaimers** - I own nothing. Except maybe the idea for Tank and Cletus, but they were both shortlived. Thomas Richards is a real character from the prison in the comics so I don't own him.

* * *

><p>Chapter 7 – Broken but Alive<p>

A noise from the building to the left of the store grabbed their attention. It was a diner and the inside was darkened from what they could tell from a distance. They changed course and headed that way. They stood against the outside wall, while Rick peered inside through the glass door in the front. He pulled back and nodded. "I'm going to go around back and head in through the kitchen door. You'll see me when I get there. Wait for my signal and we'll go in together," Rick whispered.

Hershel went to protest, but Rick's look stopped him. Daryl simply nodded. _Who'm I to tell Rick what to do anyways. _Rick went around the corner and Daryl peered in through the door. He couldn't hear anything besides muffled noise, but what he saw was enough.

Glenn was chained to a heating pipe on the wall perpendicular to the door. He was straining against the chains, clearly yelling something. One man stood against the back wall, not far from the door Rick would be coming in through. He wore the same khaki jumpsuit that the other man had been wearing, zipper unzipped, his pink fleshy cock hanging out as he stroked himself. In the middle of the room, Maggie… her face a swollen mess, a jagged cut across one side where the skin had split, blood smearing down it. She was stripped to her tank top and nothing else, bent over one of the tables, her hands bound together and outstretched in front of her grabbing at the air. The second man was behind her, khaki jumpsuit around his ankles, pounding inside her roughly, slamming himself against her… into her… so hard the table slid forward each time. Although Daryl couldn't hear it, he could tell she was screaming out, crying, struggling, sobbing… Hershel made a sound in the back of his throat. _Fuck this._

"We ain't waitin'. Fuck what Rick said," Daryl hissed out. The front door opened to the inside, he didn't know if it was locked and he didn't fuckin' much give a shit. He kicked it in, storming inside with Hershel on his heels. In one smooth move, he whipped the crossbow up and shot an arrow straight through the head of the guy behind Maggie, killing him instantly. The guy with his dick in his hands went for a rifle on the floor, but Daryl was faster grabbing for his own gun… the bullet went right through the asshole's forearm – an intentional shot – Daryl wanted him to suffer first.

* * *

><p>Carol leaned against the truck. They'd wrapped Beth up in a blanket from the store after tying her hands and feet and placed her in the back of the truck. It was only a matter of time before she turned, at least according to Rick... Carol had only ever seen people turn when they'd been bitten, and she wasn't much looking forward to seeing otherwise. <em>We need to get out of here.<em> She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. The bleeding in her side had slowed considerably, but the pain was still there… a dull throb radiating through her body.

Lori was in the backseat of Glenn's vehicle with Carl. He was awake but out of it… babbling a little bit deliriously and Lori was trying to get him to drink some water and eat something.

T-Dog maintained his post not far from the vehicles, half-watching the road for the others, and half-watching Beth's killer lying not far from Carol.

She breathed out loudly. She was so frustrated just standing here. She lifted her shirt a little to check her wound. _I can't believe I was shot. I can't believe Beth is dead. _Her eyes were wet and she fought back the tears.

The man snorted, coughed. He was awake, watching her. Her eyes narrowed at him. He spoke hoarsely, just loud enough for only her to hear, "Hey cunt, where's that little bitch Darylina?" She said nothing. "Merle's dumbass pussy little sister, where the fuck is that sonomabitch… when I get my hands on him, he's gonna pray I kill 'im fast."

_What would Daryl do? He'd be quiet and let this guy do all the talking… of course, Daryl would probably be being quiet while bloodying his knuckles in the process of getting the guy to talk... but I can't exactly do the same, now can I? _She wanted to do what her Daryl would do. _My Daryl? When did he become mine? Is he even mine? Why would he even want to be mine? My Daryl…_ She felt possessive of him. She felt like he was hers, at least in some minute way. She definitely didn't feel like she deserved him, but it didn't stop her from wanting to deserve him. She thought back to when she grabbed that shovel. She'd been thinking about Daryl. She'd wanted to protect him. _As if!_ She almost laughed at the thought. _As if I could ever protect __**him**__. _More than anything she wanted to be strong for him, for Daryl to be proud of her. It was an incredulous idea. Had anyone ever been proud of her before? _Sophia._ But wanting Daryl to be proud of her was different than that… much different. When did she start feeling like this? She suddenly couldn't remember not feeling like this.

"Answer me, you stupid cunt… when I get my hands on him… fucking sissy needs a lesson from his brother… toughest sonomabitch I ever met… the fucking prick" the man grumbled but he was clearly losing steam. She shivered at the thought of 'Merle's lessons,' thinking about the faded, jagged scars she'd seen on Daryl's chest when he'd been injured, and the way he never, ever, showed his back to anyone.

* * *

><p>The asshole dropped to the floor, clutching his forearm, howling. Daryl ignored Maggie whimpering… Hershel could deal with that… went around the dead asshole on the floor, moving quickly to the injured asshole and bashed him hard on the head with his boot. <em>Sonovamotherfuckinbitch. Ya like to hurt women, let's see how ya motherfuckers like it when it's me kickin yer fuckin ass. Fuckin scream for me ya dumbass punk bitch.<em>

It was then that Rick finally entered, surveying the scene and moving fast. He grabbed Daryl before he could hit the asshole again. They needed information and they very well couldn't get it if Daryl killed him first.

Daryl looked at Rick, a solid glare – the epitome of shooting daggers. He was pissed. _Fuckin' ridiculous. Don't give a shit what ya want, motherfucker needs to pay._ He looked back towards Maggie.

Hershel had stripped off his button down shirt and had draped it over Maggie to cover her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, red and full of tears. "Daddy…," her voice broke as she said it, she sounded like a child.

"Get me out of these chains!," Glenn yelled, his voice exasperated and angry. In his own rage, Daryl had forgotten the kid was there. He looked at Glenn for the first time straight on. Glenn looked beaten, but not just his body – a dark bruise forming on his face, blood trickling still down his forehead – it was in his eyes. _Aw, hell. _He thought they'd been broken before, but there was no way the group was going to be the same again... not after all this.

While Daryl worked to free Glenn, Rick questioned the – _still living, still-motherfuckin-breathing-my-air sonovabitch _– asshole on the floor.

"Who are you!," Rick bellowed, "Where did you come from?" He pinned the asshole's injured arm to the floor, stepping on it with his heel, really digging in to the wound. The asshole screamed. "You'll tell me you son of a bitch, or I'll let the other one have you and you'll talk for sure then…," Rick said motioning to Daryl as 'the other one.'

"Okay, Okay, get off me and I'll talk!," the asshole screamed in pain. Rick stepped off him, keeping his gun steady on the asshole's head. The asshole scooted back, his limp dick still hanging out of his pants, his previous hard-on all but forgotten. _Last fuckin hard-on yer ever gonna have if I have an'thin' to do with it. _

"Thomas… my name's Thomas, Thomas Richards. I was an inmate at the West Central Prison. It's not too far from here, a town or two over. When the world went to hell, the guards just kind of let us go, or they took off and we found a way to get out… I don't know. It doesn't matter. These guys let me go with them. Safety in numbers and all that. You know…," it was clear that Rick didn't know and didn't want to know.

"How many?," Rick said.

"I don't know there were hundreds of prisoners, I have no idea…"

"No, how many in your group?," Rick spat out at the asshole.

"Oh… three, just three. Just Tank over there, and Cletus… I don't know where Cletus went off to." Rick nodded, stepped back, brought his hand up to his face to stroke the stubble on his chin.

"Well, thank you, Thomas, thank you for your honesty… I can trust that you're being honest with me, can't I, Thomas?"

Thomas nodded vigorously, "Yes, definitely, of course, absolutely…" Rick raised the gun and shot Thomas in the head.

Rick looked at Daryl, Glenn, and then to Hershel, "Can we get Maggie up and out of here?" Hershel leaned down and picked Maggie up, cradling his twenty-something year old daughter in his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder. Standing next to Hershel, Glenn put a hand to her back and whispered something to her. "Let's get the hell out of this place," Rick said.

_Bout damn time. _

* * *

><p>"They're coming!," T-Dog yelled. Carol moved out towards the road so she could see. She almost sighed with relief when she saw Daryl leading the group, running towards them up next to Rick, but the sigh died inside her the moment she saw Hershel carrying something… <em>Oh no, not Maggie<em>… and Glenn trailing just a step behind them, a noticeable limp as he ran.

"Load up and let's go. We'll regroup somewhere else and figure out where we should go from here. Come on," Rick said the moment he reached them. It was clear in his voice that no questions should be asked and they should all just obey. The time for questions was later. Without another word, Rick strode behind her. She jumped slightly at the gunshot as Rick shot the stranger point-blank in the head. Her eyes locked with Daryl's.

"Come on," Daryl repeated gruffly to her, moving towards his bike and motioning for her to follow. She went.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N –** Thank you for the reviews. This is a super short one, but the next one is the conversation between Daryl and Carol about the stranger from the store a/k/a Cletus so I wanted to put it in its own chapter since I'm not sure how long it'll end up being. And now I know what a lemon is (thank you **hockeydrmr9**!) and yes, I plan to write "sex scenes" in this particular story (and for sure, in other stories as well)… but I'm not there yet. Not sure how good they'll be, but they are definitely on the map. And soon. Again, sorry for the super short update! But I still hope you like it.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8 – The Fight Reflex<p>

Maybe five miles down the road, Rick hit his horn signaling they needed to stop. Daryl pulled over, and Carol got off the bike. Beth had turned. Carol watched as they unloaded her from the back of the truck. The girl was wriggling in the blanket, the reddish-black slit in her neck opening and closing like a second mouth as she rolled her head from one side to the other… her eyes now grayish and glossed over. Maggie was sobbing, the sound muffled as Glenn took her in his arms.

"Hershel, it's time," Rick said, his voice matter-of-fact.

Carol looked between the two men, and glanced at Daryl… a movement behind him… she opened her mouth to say, "walker", but then there were two… three… four. Daryl must have heard it too as he went to spin, but there was one right on him, nearly on top of him. Without thinking, Carol pulled Daryl's gun from the back of his jeans… the move was so fluid it had to be a reflex. A fight or flight response, and she definitely chose fight. BANG. He had been so close; it was practically point-blank to the head. The kickback shot through her arm and she almost lost her balance – pain screaming through her body from her wounded side – but stayed up.

The walker hit the ground with a thud. Daryl was moving, the crossbow up as he shot an arrow through the second… through the third… as T-Dog slammed a pick-axe into the fourth's head. She looked at the one she shot… _how'd he get so close without us knowing?_... his feet were bare and black from dirt and grime.

Daryl eased the gun from her grip and she looked at him. He nodded, a strange look on his face – _surprise... definitely shock... gratitude? ..._ _and __pride?_ "We hafta be gettin' ya yer own gun cuz ya sure as hell can't be havin' mine now, ya hear?," he said a half-smile coming over his face. She smiled.

In the end, Hershel couldn't do it. It was clear he was struggling. Walker or not, Beth was still his daughter. Carol sympathized… she couldn't have been the one to put down Sophia even if she had known… no… wanted to use a weapon back then. _Back then? Like it was so long ago… a few weeks, a month maybe... it feels like forever._ They had to get moving again, find a safe – _hah! What's safe anymore?_ – place to spend the night. In silent agreement, they bundled Beth - now finally at rest - back up and took her with them. They'd have to bury her soon, but for now they knew they couldn't just leave her.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N – **YAY! I'm so happy to have gotten to this chapter. I really hope you like it. There's not much action, but there's Daryl and Carol and I had this scene in mind for a while. I was just biding my time and trying to get here. I'm not very patient with my muses. Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Chapter 9 – Time for Confession<p>

Dusk was on them by the time they sought refuge for the night. T-Dog and Daryl had gone into the woods and found a clearing with a small abandoned rock quarry just big enough for them to camp the night. The largest boulder was high enough to stand on and survey the immediate surroundings, and also high enough to view a small brook not too far away. The days were still quite warm even though the nights were dipping into the not-quite-freezing-but-definitely-uncomfortable colder temperatures. First things first, they ate a small ration each of their food and then set to digging a grave for Beth.

Carol hadn't known the girl well, but her heart went out to Hershel and Maggie as they buried her. The group stood around, a few words were said, and the deed was done. Their mood was somber. Lori clutched Carl to her as Beth was lowered down.

Carol knew what Lori was thinking – 'Thank God it's not my boy in that hole'. Carol felt the weight of Sophia's death heavy on her heart as they filled in the shallow grave. Everywhere Carol turned, even with Sophia gone and buried, her daughter was with her. _I wouldn't have it any other way. I miss you each and every day. I'm sorry I couldn't be there; I couldn't bury you the way you deserved, with me standing strong as you were lowered down into that hole. I failed you, I know. But not anymore. I'm going to live for you now. I'm going to be strong for you now as best I can. I promise. _She'd have to seek out Daryl later… she had questions and she knew only he had answers. Would he give them? Probably not. But she could try and ask at least. And she needed to ask him a favor too… one lucky shot wasn't enough. She needed to be able to protect herself better. She needed a weapon of her own, training, and practice. She needed to be able to protect the group. Sophia would have wanted that.

"I'm going to take first watch," Rick said to Lori as they all dispersed to their separate sleeping areas. Daryl brushed past Carol without a word and headed into the woods towards the brook. Carol watched Lori glare at her husband for a moment before turning away. Her heart saddened seeing this couple she cared about, that she depended on, at odds with each other. She hoped they could work it out. She hoped that somehow they could mend their marriage, that the group could find a place to mend itself together again and heal… a safe place. _There has to be a safe place out there somewhere._

* * *

><p>Daryl stopped a stone's throw from the brook and sat down with his stuff. He leaned back against a tree. He knew he was still in Rick's line of sight, and that Rick didn't fancy him staying so far away. But there wasn't no one going to say a word about it. <em>Not gonna huddle up with them dumb-shits up there. Don't need no coddlin'. And I don't need 'em thinkin' I likes 'em or somethin' crazy like that. <em>

He whipped around at the footsteps. Carol. _Shoulda fuckin known._

"Why ain't ya with the doc? Ya go on now and get ya'self checked out," Daryl said gruffly, turning away from her.

"He's just finishing with Glenn and then he's got Maggie to tend to. I'll see him after, I'm sure," Carol said softly, crouching down not too far away from him. She wasn't quite next to him, but he still stiffened at the closeness.

"Well what the hell ya want then. Came out here to get away from ya people."

"I want to know about the man in the store. You knew him." It wasn't a question.

"None of ya fuckin' business if I knew him or if I didn't. Ya think ya can jus' come out here and 'xpect me to start yammerin' out my life story. Ain't none of ya fuckin business." _Go back where ya came from woman. I don't need ya. I don't need none-of-ya._

She sighed, "I didn't come out here to fight with you, Daryl." He flinched involuntarily at the softness in her voice. The twigs and leaves crunched beneath her feet as she stood up. He looked down at his hands… they were shaking. _Fuckin woman._

She had turned away… was about to head back to the group when his voice stopped her, "Cletus… fucker in the store… we called 'im Cletus."

She crouched down beside him again. Closer this time. He could practically feel the heat radiating off her body. She made a sound of acknowledgement. Or was it encouragement?

"Merle's first time sent up… first… uh… prison stint I s'pose ya'd call it, not juvie, not snatchin' cars and the petty shit, but the real fucked up dirty shit… Cletus was his cellmate. Two peas in a pod, 'em two. Fuckin system don't work for shit, dumped 'em both out 'round the same time. Merle took Cletus home with 'im." Daryl paused. _Fuckin' dumbass… just tell the damn woman yer whole fuckin' life story why the fuck don'cha. Really spill yer guts ya fuckin' pussy. Make 'er run for the fuckin' hills. _

"How old were you then?," Carol said calmly, she didn't look at him, she was probably afraid if she did he'd clam up and shut down, slamming those walls he was so good at hiding behind back up again.

"Sixteen, seventeen… somethin' like that. Merle and 'im did some sick shit once they was out. Took me with 'em whether I wanted to go or not. Fuckin Merle's lil' sister they called me. Daryl-fuckin-lina or some fucked up dumbass shit like that," he cleared his throat, "bad fuckin' shit, they did. Fucked girls younger'han me while they screamed out 'no' and 'stop' and clawed for the eyes. Merle and Cletus thought it was funny shit or somethin'. Beat the piss outta pretty boys jus' cause they wanted to, really beat the shit outta 'em fuckers, fucked 'em up bad, left 'em for dead, prob'ly killed more than a few of 'em. Thought it was funny to make me do shit too, and stomp the fuck outta me if I ever said no. So I stopped sayin' no. I did some bad shit… some bad fuckin' shit… so don't be sayin' I'm some kinda hero. I ain't nobody's fuckin' hero… and I don't need to be neither. Don't need that shit. Don't need none of that fuckin' shit." He was rambling, didn't think he'd ever said so many words in his whole goddamn cursed fucked up life. Her hand on his cheek stopped him cold.

She had moved to face him while he was talking and he hadn't even noticed. She was so close, her face was so close to his, her lips parted open, he could smell the peanut butter on her breath from earlier.

"You are a hero, Daryl. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. I don't care about anything you've done before, I don't care about Merle, or Cletus, or any of it. That's not you. That was never you. This… this is you now. This man, this good, strong, capable, amazing man that you are right now… in this moment…," she was breathless as she spoke, the words rolling together, her eyes locked on his, her fingers hot on his cool face. She was inches away from him, he was mesmerized looking at her, the paleness of her face in the moonlight, the blue of her eyes, the kindness of her words… their lips met and it was electric. He felt the shock pulsate through him as they melded together, her lips taking as much as they gave, his arms pulling her into him. For the first time ever, he didn't feel empty inside and his whole body hungered for more.

He felt her body go weak and fall limp as she lost consciousness in his arms, her lips still hot, but now unmoving on his…

* * *

><p><strong>AN - **Oh, I'm so sorry, but it can't be that easy for these two can it? Also, I'd just like to clarify that when Carol is thinking about Sophia and thinks that she wouldn't have it any other way... I don't mean that she wouldn't choose to have Sophia still alive, because of course she would rather her daughter alive than dead. What I mean is that, if Sophia has to be gone, Carol would rather be reminded of her at every turn and have Sophia with her in spirit along the way than to ever forget about her.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – **I love Daryl Dixon. I know he's fictional, but I just love him anyway. He's just so much fun to play with as a character. That is all… don't worry, Carol isn't in this one but she'll be back soon. Please read and review. And thank you so much for the many, many reviews so far! I love hearing your thoughts and it means so much that you take the time to read this!

**Disclaimers – **My Walking Dead addiction is my own, but I don't own anything else.

* * *

><p>Chapter 10 – Lessons from Daryl<p>

"Blood infection… why didn't I know about this sooner? I didn't even know she was shot," Hershel said, looking to Daryl for an answer.

He shrugged, "It's Carol… ya know 'er… didn't wanna bother nobody, said it was nothin'."

"Well, hell, I'm plenty bothered now, aren't I... Get her in my tent, I've got to get some antibiotics in her. Be quick about it now," Hershel huffed out but Daryl knew it was for show. _Poor bastard's prob'ly glad for somethin' to keep 'is mind off things. _

Daryl could hear Maggie and Glenn's voices as he stepped out of Hershel's tent. He'd wanted to stay with Carol but Hershel had shooed him off, spouting some shit about privacy – _Fuck privacy, doc, no such fuckin thing with ya people. But fine. I'll leave ya to it, but ya just do yer damn job here and do it fuckin right. And fuckin fast. _He resigned himself to taking a seat on a rock nearby, in between Hershel's tent and the open area that Maggie and Glenn had placed their stuff. They were arguing, trying to keep it quiet. Rick had gone back up for his watch shift after checking on what was going on with Carol. T-Dog was asleep leaning against a rock, a hat pulled low down over his eyes.

They'd only put up two tents… one for Lori and Carl to sleep in – and Rick, if Lori would let him – and then Hershel had put one up for Maggie and him in case she needed some privacy. Maggie had moved outside with Glenn though soon as Daryl had come running up with Carol in his arms.

Daryl's mind was full. He was exhausted but he'd be damned if he'd sleep now. Not without knowing what the fuck was going on with Carol. _Carol. Fuckin woman's worth 'er weight in gold. _He thought about that kiss… how her lips had been just as greedy as his, how her hands had run up his back and through his hair and she grappled for more of him. _Stupid fucking dumbass infection._ Now what the fuck was he going to do? He wasn't all touchy feely like these fuckin people. Sure, Carol could spout off about being good and amazin' and all that shit, but that wasn't him. Was it? And once she was all fine and fixed up – _cause she better goddamn well be fuckin fine! _– what was he s'posed to say to her then? Gee, thanks for the great kiss, sorry ya passed the fuck out but may I have another?

Glenn's voice cut through his thoughts. "It wasn't your fault, Maggie. It wasn't anything you did, you know that. I'm not mad at you. Why the hell do you keep saying that? I'm trying to help you. I love you. I'm here for you. Just tell me what you need me to do…"

"Just go. Just go, Glenn. I don't want you here," Maggie sounded teary and Glenn got up and stormed off angrily. _Piss poor decision, short-round, piss poor. _Leaving Maggie alone like that had to be a bad idea if even Daryl thought so. He could hear the girl sobbing now – gut-wrenching, vomit-inducing tears.

Daryl stood up, brushed himself off, and headed in the direction Glenn went. _Why I gotta be e'rybody's fuckin' nursemaid? _

Glenn was standing at the edge of a decline, staring down into the dark quarry. "I want to be alone, man," Glenn said to Daryl as he approached. Daryl said nothing, and stopped to stand a little upwind of where Glenn was standing. He proceeded to take out his dick and piss off the edge… "What the fuck, dude!," Glenn screeched leaping back out of the line of fire.

"Better to be pissed off than pissed on, ay?," Daryl said a half-smile on his face, still not looking at the scrawny, now very indignant, Asian. Daryl bounced on his feet a bit, and zipped his pants. He turned to look at Glenn.

"Dude, what the fu-uck. I've been through hell today. I'm pissed off, of course I'm pissed off. What the hell you want from me?," Glenn said.

"Ya gots to man up."

"Man up? What the hell's business is it of yours? I'd have stopped them if I could."

Daryl shook his head, _not what I mean, short-round. _"Get ya pansy ass back over where ya belong… wit' Maggie," Daryl said.

"Shut the hell up. She told **me** to leave. What the hell you know anyway." _Abso-fuckin-lutely nothin', but still mo'e than yer stupid ass. _

"Can ya jus' fuckin' take a fuckin' breath and listen for a goddamn minute." _Fuckin kids._ Daryl continued, "don't ya know nothin' bout girls? Girl didn't want yer dumb ass to leave! Girl fuckin loves yer dumb ass - beats the hell outta me why - and she's the one been through hell. Jus' cause ya had to watch don't mean ya know what she went through. Stop fuckin thinkin' bout ya'self, get ya head outta yer goddamn ass, and be there for 'er." Glenn narrowed his eyes at Daryl, opened his mouth to speak – thought better of it – and left in a huff heading back towards the campsite. Daryl watched him go and crawl back into the darkness where Maggie lay, then turned back to stare out into the darkness of the quarry, whistling a tune to himself. He could hear the soft sound of Rick chuckling not too far away, but didn't acknowledge it.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N** – Quick update. Okay, okay… I'm sorry, I'll get back on track with Daryl and Carol together scenes soon. I'm digressing a little bit but my muses keep wanting me to make Daryl funny. He is funny, especially when he's not trying to be. I really hope you like this and thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 11 – Jokes on You<p>

_I kissed Daryl Dixon._ It was the first thought in her head as her eyes fluttered open. Followed quickly by, _oh, God it hurts… but I kissed Daryl Dixon…oh my God._ She felt the urge to curse out loud. She'd never been much for cursing, not that it offended her when other people did it, but she just never had done it much herself. Maybe before Sophia, but it was hard to remember a time before she had Sophia, the girl had been so ingrained in her life for so long.

Hershel's face swam into her line of vision. His mouth was moving, she couldn't make out the words. She was so hot, felt like she must have been sitting in the middle of a fire. _I kissed Daryl Dixon… and it was… _She opened her mouth to speak, "Unbelievable," she breathed out as everything went black.

* * *

><p>It was morning now, the night had passed fairly uneventfully with little word on Carol. Daryl hadn't slept while he held vigil outside the tent.<p>

"It's pretty bad. We've got to get more antibiotics into her. Stronger stuff. Better stuff than what I have."

"Let's go then. Ya tell me what, and I'll get wha'ever she needs," Daryl said, trying hard not wring his hands together like some stupid ass housewife. He felt like stupid fuckin' Lori pacin' over Rick when he went off anywhere's without her. The feuding couple had been talking – _bout damn time_ – when he'd walked past on his way to Hershel's tent. He was sure they'd be fine and fuckin' dandy and screwin' before lunch if they could find some warm body to watch Carl.

"You can't go alone," said T-Dog.

"Like hell I can't."

"You're not going alone," Rick said striding away from Lori to check out the fuss, "None of us go anywhere alone." Daryl sighed. He didn't really much care whether he went alone or with an entire fuckin' football team – he just wanted to fucking go. _Enough of this stupid ass talkin' shit. Let's do this._ _Time's a fuckin wastin'._

It was decided that T-Dog would go with Daryl and drive, because _motherfuckin' Rick_ didn't think Daryl was calm enough to drive. _Like hell I ain't calm. What the fuck that cop know bout calm. _

Hershel's list wasn't terribly long, but Daryl didn't know what half the shit was he was lookin' for, so it took a while to get it all once they hit the closest pharmacy. Another ghost town, nearly forty minutes away from where they'd camped the night. There were only a few walkers – stragglers, really – and Daryl and T-Dog made light and quiet work of 'em.

T-Dog chattered on while Daryl searched. _Can't ya look and jus' shut the fuck up bout it? _Daryl tuned him out the best he could. He wasn't interested in making friends right now. What he was interested in was getting back and getting this medicine into his woman. _My woman? Damn right, my woman. And if she don't like it, well to hell with 'er. I ain't givin' 'er no damn choices. She jus' goes and gits he'self into trouble when I do. _

He tried to focus on the task at hand and not on the worry that had taken hold of him. He worried that she wouldn't wake up. He worried that she would wake up. He worried that she wouldn't want him once she did. He worried that she would want him once she did. He worried that he was once and for all turning into a damn woman just like Merle always said he would. _Fuckin' focus!_

Finally, all the items finally in hand, they loaded back into the vehicle. This time with Daryl driving and not taking 'no' for an answer.

"So what's going on with you and Carol, man?," T-Dog said.

Daryl kept his eyes on the road, "Nothin', what the fuck ya talkin' bout?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw T-Dog purse his lips and crack a wide smile. Daryl tensed up as the next words came at him, "Oh, cool, cool. She's a real pretty lady. I was thinking might be nice to hit that sometime. Can't really be taking out a lady these days all date-like and official, but everybody's got needs, y'know wha I mean, man?"

Daryl hit the brakes hard, and T-Dog slammed forward, his hands smashing hard into the dash to keep his head from hitting the windshield. "Motherfuckin' squirrels...," Daryl muttered and glanced over, his eyes locking hard on T-Dog's, "should really be wearin' yer seatbelt, **dawg**. He emphasized that last word, drawing it out like it was at least three syllables in length.

T-Dog laughed. _What the fuck this fucker be laughin' at! _


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N – **This is my last update for the day as I really, really, really need to actually get some school stuff done. But I will try hard tonight to update for tomorrow… Please read and review! And thank you again - really I can't thank you all enough for being so awesome!

* * *

><p>Chapter 12 – Alone at Last<p>

T-Dog kept his mouth shut the rest of the way back. Daryl was glad for that… he wanted to concentrate on getting back, as fast as possible, but still in one piece. _Won't do Carol no fuckin' good if we crash, now will it... _He had the sneaking suspicion that T-Dog was laughing at him as he slammed the truck to a screeching halt behind the other vehicles, and bolted from the car like his ass was on fire. _Don't know what's so goddamn fuckin funny. Nothin' bout a woman bein' sick to laugh bout ya sonovabitch. See if ya think it's funny when I shove my boot up yer ass. _

Hershel took the medicine without a word and went back into the tent. Daryl was tired of being kept outside though, and he pushed his way in. He watched as Hershel took a syringe, filled it with something from a vial and – as Daryl turned away in horror – pushed the needle into the cheek of Carol's ass. _Lil' warnin might'a been nice, doc. _

He wasn't so much horrified by her ass, but more by the idea of seeing her ass while she was lying there unconscious and unaware of it. When Daryl saw her ass… any part of her naked body really… he wanted her to be fully fuckin' aware of what was going down.

"Hopefully, that will work" – _hopefully? nah, no hopefully bout it, it better fuckin work_ – "and she'll be waking up soon," Hershel said, sitting back, and drawing a blanket up to cover Carol.

Hershel went to leave the tent and Daryl reached out, grabbing the older man by the arm, "Doc… thank you." Hershel smiled slightly, patted Daryl's hand on his arm, and then left. Daryl was alone with Carol – at last. _Not 'xactly what I had in mind._

* * *

><p>She woke… the pain still there, but duller than before. She felt cooler, sweaty though under a thick blanket. She turned her head to the side to find Daryl sitting cross-legged beside her in the dirt; his head hung low in a way where he was sure to get a crick in his neck – clearly asleep, snoring lightly. She smiled. She imagined he was a light sleeper, but he didn't stir as she pulled herself free from the blanket. The tent was already unzipped, and she was sure she could just crawl out without him knowing. <em>He looks so peaceful. <em>

It was dark outside. She didn't know what day it was. Last thing she remembers was Daryl… _the kiss_… _I kissed Daryl Dixon. And I liked it… and I want to do it again._ She nearly giggled.

"Oh good, you're awake. Not sure you should be moving around too much though," Hershel said, getting up from the tangled mess of blankets he'd been laying on. T-Dog was on watch, and he nodded to her from the boulder he was standing on. Glenn and Maggie were asleep not far from Hershel's sleeping area, wrapped together, Maggie's head on Glenn's shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her.

"How long have I been out?"

"More than 24 hours. Thought your young man there would have a heart attack if you didn't wake up soon." _My young man_. "He still sleeping? I checked on you an hour ago and gave you a second shot of antibiotics and he was out."

Carol smiled, "Didn't seem right to wake him."

"Best be getting back in there, it'll be hell to pay if he wakes up and you're gone," Hershel said.

"I can't take your tent," Carol said.

"Well, why not? I could always pitch another one. And you need your rest. Rick said we're moving on as soon as you can travel."

"How are Rick and Lori?"

Hershel nodded, getting her meaning, "Talking… and sharing the same tent. I think that's all we can hope for right now."

"I don't know what's going on with her. He's her husband, and a decent man. She knows that. She's just got to come around."

"Pregnancy hormones, I'm sure… you must know," he stopped himself as she winced. To his credit, he didn't ask if it was the pain. She smiled meekly, and moved slowly back to the tent. Her side ached, but it wasn't as bad as before. And personally, she preferred her physical pain to her emotional pain any day.

* * *

><p>It was still night when Daryl woke up. Maybe a few hours left until sunrise. He kneeled, leaned over and peered into Carol's face. Her eyes opened and he veered back, nearly falling on his ass. <em>Smooth, jackass.<em>

She sat up slowly, clearly still in pain, but _alive_. She smiled at him. "Hi Daryl." He fought the urge to grin – he was still Daryl Dixon after all – and grunted in response. "I heard you were worried about me." She seemed pleased - _damn woman, what'd ya 'xpect?_

"I'll go get Hershel," Daryl said gruffly.

* * *

><p>"Don't…," Carol said, "He's sleeping and I've already seen him." Daryl scowled. <em>Why are you scowling, you fool? Don't you know I just want to be alone with you for a minute? <em>She wanted to scream out in frustration. Of course, she didn't think screaming at Daryl was a good approach so she tried a different tactic.

"Can you help me with something?," she said.

He crouched down beside her again, "What?" He was still scowling.

"I want to change the bandage… just hold my shirt up a bit for me, please?" She had pulled the fabric up revealing her smooth stomach and the bloody bandage on one side. He mimicked the way she held up the shirt, trying to keep his fingers from grazing her skin. She kept her head down, busying herself by removing the old dried up and dirty bandage. She hissed as she peeled it free from her skin, and Daryl jumped, his hands moving up slightly and taking the shirt with them… the tips of his fingers brushing against the soft underswell of her breasts. He dropped the shirt and yanked his hands back like he'd be pricked.

She looked at him. Fear was outlined all over his face. She hated it, she partially understood it, felt the same way herself at the moment, but she still hated it. Before realizing what she was doing, she crossed her arms in front of her body, and pulled the shirt over her head.

* * *

><p><em>This can't be real…<em>Daryl stared at her before him, her lower body still clothed beneath the blanket, the rest of her naked as a damn jaybird before him. Despite all they'd been through over the last couple of days, she was remarkably clean. Except for the scabbed over blackish-red wound – _'at'll leave a scar _– her skin was smooth and pale and the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. _Fuckin' stunning, this woman… _She eclipsed any woman he'd ever been with.

And he'd been with girls… sluts, most of 'em – bar-bangers, Merle called them. Daryl had taken girls of all shapes and sizes from behind, bent 'em over the counters in various bar establishment bathrooms, fucked 'em hard and screaming with pleasure against toilet stall walls. Didn't mean nothin', jus' was what it was. He was a grown ass man, and he'd had his share of fucks. Seen his share of naked ladies, but this… _this woman... _was something he'd never seen before. Something he'd never have even imagined. Daryl was afraid to move for fear of breaking the spell… for fear of waking up suddenly and realizing this was just some fuckin' tease of a wet dream…

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **And I'm stopping there… stay tuned! :) For anyone wondering about the exchange between Hershel and Carol about the Rick and Lori situation – I don't think either of them know about Lori and Shane and all that triangle crap so I think it's reasonable that they would chalk up Lori's unreasonable anger (uh… hello, you all but _told_ Rick to kill Shane) to hormones.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N – **I'm so pleased to finally have gotten to this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I'd like to apologize for the major run-on sentences toward the end there, but I just couldn't stop the thoughts from running together. Hopefully it works. Thank you for the review and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this one!

**Disclaimer – **I don't own the Walking Dead or Daryl or Carol, but when I was writing this, I wished I did.

* * *

><p>Chapter 13 – Still Quiet Night<p>

Daryl was staring at her, his eyes wide with shock. He stood, stooping slightly so that his head didn't meet the fabric of the tent's roof. For one horrifying moment, she was certain he was going to say nothing and walk out – leaving her alone, and clearly out on a ledge too weak to stand on. He turned away from her, towards the exit, rubbed his hands over his face, then placed them above the door-flap inside the tent and leaned slightly forward, his back to her. _He's weighing his options…_ Her heart fell, and she looked down at her hands in her lap.

The sound of the zipper broke loudly through the silence and she looked up. He was looking at her again – their eyes locked. He slid the zipper to the door-flap down, closing off the only entrance/exit, sealing them safely inside. "Jesus Chr'st, woman," he said it so softly she might have missed it if not for the still silence inside the tent. He kneeled next to her, traced the unblemished skin surrounding her wound gently. He kept his eyes on hers as he grasped the clean bandage that had been lying on the bed of blankets, and placed it against her skin, using his fingers to seal the sticky edges against her.

She would have never believed the bandaging of a wound could be sexy.

* * *

><p>He drank her in, his cock ached in a way he'd never felt before. A need never even known let alone satisfied. He had been instantly hard the moment her shirt came off, and it almost killed him to get up to zip the flap shut. But he wanted the privacy. Last thing he needed was for Hershel, or Rick, <em>or that fuckin douchebag T-Dog<em>, to walk in and interrupt. He wished for more privacy than what they truly had. He wished he was alone with Carol, far away from here, away from walkers, and fuckheads with guns who raped young girls, away from the life both of them had lived – _No deadbeat jackass husbands. No Merle. No scars from my motherfuckin waste of a life if ya even call it that. Jus' me and 'er. _Despite everything his brother had done in Daryl's past, Daryl never wished for a life without him… until now.

He hardly knew this woman beyond a few months, but he was blown away by her power over him. The skin on her stomach and waist surrounding her wound was so smooth and soft; it only made the scabbed flesh look more menacing. He wished he could kiss it away. As he placed the bandage to her flesh, he was reminded that she was still in pain when she winced.

He looked down to her milky breasts… _Fuckin Chr'st, she's perfect…_ she trembled under his gaze, her breasts were proportional to her body, the left breast slightly bigger than the right, tight pink almost purple nipples. He ached to touch her, could feel his cock throbbing. He held himself back. None of his prior experience mattered here… he felt overwhelmingly nervous, his palms were hot and slick… _She's like a fuckin goddess and it feels like I'm a goddamn virgin over here. _

* * *

><p>Carol watched him watching her, saw the way his hair fell across his forehead, a bit too long, wisps of it in his eyes. She shivered with anticipation. His face was tan and weathered, stubble on his cheeks and chin, and she longed for him to touch her again, to hold her like he did when they had kissed. He was hesitating, she could feel it. <em>Now or never…<em>

She leaned closer, his greenish blue eyes flickering to meet her gaze. She smiled, bit her bottom lip gently and went for it. Their kiss was charged with electricity. _He could power a whole city._ It practically shocked her… an honest to God zap of pure energy… but she didn't pull back and neither did he. Instead, they enveloped each other in a tangle of arms, the feel of his rough skin tingling on her back, his shirt bristling against her breasts, the pain in her side still there but so low on the totem pole of intense feelings right now it was practically forgotten. Their tongues met, mingled, and they kissed like teenagers at a drive-in movie before hell had taken over the world and the dead rose back to life. He tasted like strawberries and it astounded her… _strawberries? How is that even possible? _

She slipped a hand inside his shirt, feeling the rigid strength of his back, the soft peach fuzz of hair on his stomach, the coarse scars, she traced them hesitantly afraid he might pull away but he did the opposite, he took her mouth harder, making a guttural sound that flipped her stomach with desire, she felt hot and wet between her thighs.

He laid her back gently, clearly still aware of her injuries, his mouth moved hot and deliciously down her neck, pausing on her clavicle. He had a hand on her hip, and he moved, pushing the blanket aside, and sliding his hand down inside her pants, as his mouth moved again, tasting the swell of her breast, traveling down to her nipple, he licked it, tasted it, and then sucked, his tongue swirling, sucking at the hard knot of a nipple, and then his hand was suddenly warm on the silken mound of hair between her legs, a finger slid across her slit, she jerked slightly. Her head went back to meet the hard earth as she arched her back up, ignoring the stab of pain that lit up through her side, becoming an immediate afterthought as he slid a finger inside of her. Ecstasy engulfed her whole body and she moaned softly. _Fuck me…_

* * *

><p>She was moist and slippery around his finger, tight as hell, her muscles clutched him, suckling at his middle finger. <em>Oh fuck, woman. <em>He moved his face up so his lips could meet hers… her tongue touched his, and her mouth was hot and powerful, seeking more, craving all of him, and he couldn't do anything but give her what she wanted. Daryl Dixon, rendered helpless by a tiny nymph of a woman.

Her hand, suddenly –_ oh fuck, where-in-the-hell did that come from – _gripped the shaft of his cock, the tip of one finger flitting across the hole at its head. He jerked involuntarily, and she bit gently at his lower lip… _oh fucking hell, woman, wha're ya doin' to me… _

* * *

><p>Carol wanted all of him. She wanted him naked and on top of her, surging inside of her; she wanted him naked and beneath her, rocking her hips into bliss. God, she'd never wanted anything so much as this. She knew any sex from her crappy little life before would pale in comparison… not that there was much to compare to anyway… but she knew without a doubt that this man – <em>her Daryl <em>– could ruin her from vibrators for the rest of her life. _He's better than chocolate. Better than the best guilty pleasure I've ever had._

She peeled the shirt off his back, and surprisingly he didn't protest. His skin was fascinating, soft and calloused at the same time, beautiful in its own way; his scars were an intricate pattern of stars she wanted to trace with her tongue.

It felt like their pants were slid off simultaneously but really the whole thing was a blur of motion before he was finally entering her. And then time stood still… the slow, lingering feeling of his cock sliding roughly inside her, the walls of her core expanding to make room while alternately gripping him at the same time. She could feel every move he made so intensely it was all she could do not to scream in amazement. She rose up to meet him, giving him a deeper dish to drink from. Her hands moved up his back, and she gazed up at him, both of their eyes never leaving the other's.

He thrust into her, "fuckin' hell," he groaned, and she felt her body tense in pleasure at his words. They rocked together, grinding hard, their movements perfectly timed as she arched up to meet him each time he thrust in deeper. "Oh God, _Daryl_." Her words were a whisper but he responded with a deep and low moan from the back of his throat. She was clenching him tightly as her orgasm swelled, the intensity building, the heat overpowering and she could feel his cock growing inside of her…

"Oh fu-uck, Carol." And with her name, she couldn't stop it from happening, she bucked against him as she lost control, clenching and releasing, cumming harder than she'd even known possible, and then he was with her, thrusting in as he came, a deep groan and grunt as he too was spent.

They collapsed together in a heap – him being careful not to touch her wounded side, and one of her hands lingering on the largest, jagged and opaque, scar on his chest – quiet in the intensity of the moment, both content to lay there together, unashamed in each other's company and amazed at the feelings neither could yet voice.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N – **This chapter didn't go the way I expected. I have like this plan… like a road map… for where I'm going with this, and I thought I knew all the little side roads I was going to take, but this wasn't one of them. But no worries, eventually it'll connect to where I'm going. Our group is leaving this little quarry soon though, so don't get too comfortable. :) Thank you again for all your awesome reviews! I love reading what you have to say!

* * *

><p>Chapter 14 – An Unexpected Surprise<p>

Carol opened one eye. The pain in her side was a dull, muted throb. Daryl was gone – _I didn't dream that, did I? _- and the tent was bright with the morning sun. Hershel stood in the corner, his back to her, fiddling with something. Foggily she tried to get her bearings… the blanket was heavy and warm over her body, but underneath… _still naked, not a dream… oh geez… it really happened. _She felt giddy, but somewhat nervous. Where'd Daryl go off to?

When Hershel turned back to her, she squeezed her eyes shut so he'd think she was still sleeping. This wasn't the best position to be caught in. "Last night probably wasn't part of the doctor's orders, you know?," the old man said chuckling.

She felt her face grow hot and red, opened her eyes and tried to grin chastely. "Oh… umm… how…," she stammered and he seemed to take pity on her.

"Hard not to hear, tight quarters and all."

She grimaced, "and everyone else...?"

Hershel smiled kindly, "Fast asleep far as I could tell. Mum's the word. But you did break open your scab so you're getting another shot of antibiotics."

He gave her some privacy while she dressed, and then came back with the shot. "What were you before all this, Hershel?"

He chuckled, "a veterinarian, believe it or not."

She looked surprised. "Well, we're lucky to have you. You've been so good to us."

He shrugged it off, "No, Rick was good enough to welcome me and my kin when we lost the farm, and I wasn't always the best host when you all first arrived. It's the least I can do, really."

He stood up, and she sat up, wincing as she put pressure on her butt where he'd just injected the antibiotics. "Now seriously, Carol. First pain too sharp to tolerate, any fever, any new symptoms, whatever… you come see me straight away. When Daryl brought you to me… well, suffice to say, if a dog had come to me like you had, I'd've been putting it down."

She nodded grimly. "I will. Thank you, Hershel."

The older man nodded, and said, "Best come on out when you're up to it – take it slow though – I'm sure the others'll want to be seeing you and Rick wants to discuss heading out today at some point. He doesn't think it's safe to stay in the open too long."

* * *

><p>Daryl hadn't wanted any one of <em>'em nosy ass busybodies<em> watchin' him leave the tent, so he'd left Carol sleeping peacefully beneath the blanket to go out to the woods and hunt… or think… _No, dumbass, ya came out 'ere to hunt. Do somethin' fuckin useful._ _Stupid ass motherfucker_. He'd never had sex and wanted to lie with a woman before. A couple hours – _wham, bam, thank ya ma'am_ – and then he was out the door. That was what he knew. _Tha's what Merle taught me. A'course, not mucha Merle's fuckin lessons was worth a damn. Huntin', shootin', fishin', sure… but ev'rythin' else… Merle was a dumbfuck more times than most._

But he could have stayed next to Carol all night… he could imagine waking her up in the morning with his tongue travelling across her skin, the sweet moan she'd make as her body responded… the sound of a squirrel darting away from him brought him back to reality. D_amnit! Fuckin' concentrate. _

The problem was he'd gone so long without that his body had simply gotten used to it, he'd gotten used to being ornery and tense – _status fuckin quo _– and it was good for his concentration. This sudden and unexpected feeling of release and _dare I ev'n think it_ serenity had him a bit out of sorts.

A crash in the woods behind him, something cried out, and a flurry of footsteps in the leaves to his left caused him to raise his crossbow. Out of the woods, a woman appeared in his sights, spotting him before he could move. She was Asian, very young – _ya can't be more 'an sixteen – _unnaturally pale and her face shiny from sweat, her mouth open in awe, her eyes wide with despair, pain, and something else… relief?

Her dress was stained with dried blood from the waist down, and she started to cry the moment she saw him, thrusting a bundle at him… "p'ease sir, p'ease… take it, take it," her English was broken… _What the fuck… _and then her eyes rolled into her skull and she started to fall. Instinct had him grabbing for the bundle she had pushed at him, and he caught it before it hit the ground, nearly falling ass over teakettle himself in the process. The girl on the ground was still. He crouched, put his ear to her mouth and felt no air… no breath.

He looked down at the bundle in his other arm, it seemed to squirm. _Fuckin thing's alive. Wha' the fuck's this shit? _He pulled back one of the corners of the blanket and stared into the crystal blue eyes of a clearly very newborn baby. _Well, fuck._


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N – **Quick update… thank you everyone for the great reviews for Chapter 13, and for all the great stuff you had to say! I was nervous about posting that one! I really love reading your reviews – you are all so great! Please read and review. I really appreciate you reading what I write. It means a lot!

* * *

><p>Chapter 15 – Not Another Word<p>

Lori was the first to greet Carol. "I'm so glad you're okay! You have no idea what I've had to deal with!" Carol smiled. Lori was her friend… she wasn't perfect, she had a lot of opinions, and Carol didn't always think the woman understood consequences, but she could listen well enough usually, and she'd never done wrong by Carol so far. Carol doubted they would've ever met though, let alone been friends, if it weren't for the world going to hell, but all the same she was glad for Lori's company most of the time.

"Where's Carl?," Carol asked.

"Oh, probably off bothering T-Dog somewhere," the woman smiled absently and shrugged. _How can you not know?_ Carol grimaced, glanced around, until she could see the top of Carl's hat not too far from where Rick was keeping watch.

He caught her eye and smiled, jumping down and calling for Carl to follow him. "Hey, Carol. Glad to see you up and about, you feeling okay? Think you're up to travel?"

She nodded, surveying the scene as the others came to stand around close by… clearly a group meeting. Glenn and Maggie – the young girl was bruised but healing, and she held hands tightly with Glenn, almost as if the link between them gave her strength. Carl, with his usual somber face, stopped to stand by Lori who had just begun to pop in her pregnancy. She was wearing one of Rick's shirts, and if Carol had to guess, she'd say the woman's pants were unbuttoned. T-Dog and Hershel stood on the other side, opposite from Rick, clearly already in the know about what he was going to say.

"Where's Daryl?," she said before Rick could speak, and they were interrupted by the loud sound of someone running through the woods. Daryl crashed through the tree line, carrying a small body over his shoulder, and a bunched up blanket in the other arm.

* * *

><p>Daryl watched as Hershel looked over the girl, his face tightening as he came to the same conclusion that Daryl had. <em>Jus' another dead girl. <em>Carol had come to his side right away, her eyes seeking if he was alright. He'd given her the baby, her eyes had widened and then she'd gone off to the side cooin' at the damn thing.

"She'd been bit," Hershel said.

"You see any walkers out there, Daryl?," Rick asked.

Daryl shook his head, "jus' some squirrel and then 'er."

Hershel stood up. "It looks like she got bit, and then gave birth. Her feet are a mess, she might've been running for days. She lost a lot of blood in the birth, but she might've been fine if not for the bite. I wouldn't put her at more than 14 or 15 in age, and I'd say that baby," he motioned for Carol to bring it over, "is probably not more than a week old."

Hershel looked over the baby, poking and prodding, and Daryl felt almost protective – _lil' brat's fine, doc, don't need no fussin' over. _

"Well it's a girl," Hershel exclaimed, his eyes met with Carol's and he smiled as he handed the baby back to her.

"Well we can't keep it!," Lori said loudly. There was silence as everyone looked at her, shocked.

"Wha' the fuck ya say?," Daryl broke the silence. _'Cuse me bitch... ain't ya all knocked up? Ya don't like fuckin' babies now or somethin'? Shoulda thought bout that before, ya ask me._

Lori's voice was high and whiny as she continued, "Well, we can't! We have enough mouths here already. No formula. We can't exactly feed it peanut butter! And stop looking at me like that… I'm not a monster, I know it's just a baby, but it isn't our responsibility."

"Wha' 'xactly are ya sayin? Ya jus' gonna kill some fuckin' helpless fuckin' baby?" _Say how ya not a monster again, ya stupid fuckin cow… go ahead, fuckin dare ya. _Anger coursed through Daryl and he clenched his fists. He'd never wanted to hit a bitch so bad.

Lori looked around at everyone, "Oh come on, guys. I'm not saying we kill it, but we can't keep it. What we can do is let nature take its course. If that girl hadn't seen Daryl, we wouldn't be in this situation, that girl would still be dead and that baby'd be dead with her."

He didn't know where Carol had come from, last he noticed she had been standing between him and Hershel, but suddenly she was there beside Lori – still holding the baby all wrapped up in one arm – and her other hand came up and she slapped the other woman hard across the face. Lori's hand flew up to her cheek – _'at'll leave a mark_ – and she backed up, but Carol pursued, her finger pointed in Lori's face.

Carol's voice came out a low hiss, almost a growl, as she spoke through gritted teeth, "let me get this real clear… **this** is **not** a situation. **This** is a child, a helpless, newborn baby who didn't ask for this, didn't ask to be born, and sure as hell didn't ask for the likes of you. This baby comes with us, wherever the hell we decide to go, and over my dead, rotting flesh will you say another word about it."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N – **So I did want Daryl and Carol to have some kind of talk after their night together, but I feel like it's still Daryl so I don't want to make it too fluffy. I'm hoping for some fluff in the future, but I'm biding my time until I get there. Right now, they're both like scared, damaged, socially-stunted adults, afraid to scare the other one off by saying too much.

Thank you for the reviews! Your comments really make it all worth it!

* * *

><p>Chapter 16 – Having the Talk<p>

Rick had decided their next stop would be to scope out the prison that Thomas Richards had mentioned. He figured it was a place that could be fortified, thick walls, high fences… as safe as any place could get. And as for the prisoners - as Rick put it, "if you were locked up for months, years even, and then suddenly the doors were left open… would you stick around?" Lori hadn't said a word since her outburst and upon Rick's announcement, simply headed off with Carl into their tent.

Glenn, Maggie, and Hershel were having a heated discussion about it off in the corner. Clearly – and understandably - Maggie and Glenn were not happy with this idea. T-Dog had merely nodded his agreement with the plan and went up to keep watch.

Carol took the baby inside the tent and Daryl followed. "What do you think about this?," she said softly the moment he stepped inside.

"S'pose it depends… state-a-the prison and all. Rick's assumin' a lot… might be torn down fo'all we know. Reckon it's worth a look though." She turned to face him, the baby tucked into the crook of her arm. She wore fresh clothes, and her eyes touched on his before she looked down and smiled serenely at the baby. _God, yer beautiful. _

"I missed you this morning," she said. He cleared his throat, at a loss for words. _Shouldn'a left. _

* * *

><p>Their eyes locked and Carol wondered what he was thinking. <em>He probably wants to bolt. <em>She sighed. "Can you hold her for a moment? I want to pack up this stuff." He opened his mouth to speak and she knew he was about to offer to just pack it for her, but he accepted the baby nonetheless when she handed the small, wriggly bundle over. He looked down at the little one, his face an odd mixture of uncertainty and fear. She could love this man. Could really love this man with all that she was, for her whole life, no matter how long or short it might end up being. She'd probably known it last night, maybe for weeks even, but in this moment… in this moment she was certain.

But she was afraid, maybe he couldn't love her. "If last night was a mistake…," she stopped, fear holding her back from saying the words, "if last night was a mistake, Daryl, I'd understand." She kept her back to him, keeping herself steady on the task at hand. If she kept moving, kept putting blankets and clothes in bags, she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't hurt at what she knew was coming. The letdown. What meant everything to her, had meant nothing to him.

"Wha'?," he said gruffly, his voice much closer than it had been before, and she nearly jumped when he touched her, his hand descending down her arm, gently pulling her to look at him. She obeyed, turned her body to face him but kept her head down, eyes glancing at the sleeping baby, and then locking on their feet.

"It a m'stake for ya?," he said, and she raised her chin to look into his eyes.

"Absolutely not, Daryl, absolutely not. That's not what I meant. I mean, if you regret it… if you think it shouldn't have happened… I'd understand where you're coming from. I'm a big girl, Daryl Dixon, and I can take it."

His face cracked into the strangest smile, probably wider than any she'd ever seen cross his face before, and he laughed softly. "Goddamn, I hates that fuckin' bastard h'sband of yers. Swear, wish I coulda brung him back to life so I coulda beat 'im dead again." Carol was confused. _What exactly was so funny and what is he saying here? _

"Oh woman. Dumbshit bastard really did a numb'r on ya, didn't he? Wadn't no m'stake. Last night. Bein' with ya, well bein' with ya was like finally meetin' God in heav'n or somethin' nuts like tha'. If ya believe in tha' shit and all. Like fuckin' Chr'stmas and my birthday all roll'd up into one, least if anyone in my life had ever giv'n half a fuck bout those days."

* * *

><p>Daryl couldn't understand women sometimes. As he said the words – sounding stupid to his own ears, but he figured his heart was in 'em at least – tears sprang into Carol's eyes. <em>Damn cryin' again. Don't she know I'ma lookin' to make 'er happy? <em>

"Why ya cryin', woman? I'ma sayin' I liked it… er… I like ya, ya know… I'da do it again if I had the chance." And with that Carol grinned and laughed, her eyes still shiny, but the sound of her laughter warmed his whole body.

"Oh, you'll get the chance, Daryl Dixon," she said, "mark my words, you'll get the chance…" She winked at him, shaking her head as she turned back to her packing.

Carol was almost done packing when the baby started to squirm in Daryl's arms. "Ya almos' done? Here I think the lil' brat wants ya."

"Little brat?," she laughed. She turned back and took the baby from him. She looked thoughtfully at the little one, "we should name her." He smiled when she looked up at him. _Woman looks so damn happy, how can I refuse 'er anythin'. _

"Wha' ya have in mind?" She made a face, thinking, and then she shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I was never very good with names. Sophia got hers from a soap opera I used to watch." She frowned.

He watched Carol look at the baby, and he realized that Carol already loved the lil' thing, all tiny and helpless and dependent. He realized that she might even love him, and if she didn't yet, he'd be damn sure to make it so that she did. _I love this woman. _The words seemed foreign in his head. Love? What did Daryl Dixon know bout love? But looking at Carol with her eyes engrossed on that baby, soft cooing sounds coming from between those lips that had been ravenous on him last night, he realized that Carol… _this woman_… could teach him all he'd ever need to know about love. "Rose," he said, "like Cher'kee Rose."

"Rose," she repeated, "oh, yes, I think that'll do perfectly. What do you think, little Rose?"


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N – **Not sure if I'll get any more writing done today… I'm torn between my crazy obsession with writing this thing and my guilt at slacking on school work this week. So I'm thinking, there'll probably be a new chapter up tomorrow at some point. Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing from you all!

* * *

><p>Chapter 17 – Lost and Found<p>

The most Hershel knew about the prison was that it was in no man's land, and he told the group as much. It was sandwiched in the middle of nowhere, the nearest towns on either side at least 15-20 miles away. Rick seemed to take that as a good sign, and he spoke up. "It'd be a place we could hunker down, fortify. There'd be room for all of us, for all of us to breathe, for kids to play," Rick glanced at Carol holding Rose, "We could plant gardens, there's woods for hunting, could even be running water, who knows, and places to train with weapons if we needed to…"

It was the idea of training that caught Carol's attention. She hadn't forgotten about that. _Wasn't that the whole reason I went to see Daryl down by the brook the other night?_ She almost laughed. So much had happened since then. She felt like the world had tipped itself upside down, but in a good way, in a _Good Lord, Daryl Dixon likes me_, kind of way. But she still needed to ask Daryl about a weapon. She couldn't rely on him to take care of her… she had enough of people taking care of her in her lifetime. She looked over at him, his face locked down in that gruff, angry Dixon way – _so sexy_. She always wanted him with her, but that didn't mean he always would be – there'd be hunts, and trips into town to get supplies, and Daryl probably wasn't a man you could pin in one place for too long – so she'd have to be able to protect herself when he wasn't around.

* * *

><p>Rick decided they'd head right for the prison, scope it out, and hopefully be bedded down before it got too dark. But Hershel reminded them all about the baby, and they'd need supplies for her once they got to the prison. "We'll have to split up," Rick said soberly as realization dawned. <em>No shit, Sherlock. <em>

Rick pondered a moment and then said, "Okay, Daryl and Hershel, you'll stop at a town before the prison, the rest of us will head to the prison, check it out and keep an eye out for when you get there."

"I'm going to the town too," Carol said softly.

Daryl glared at her, "No ya ain't." Carol shot him a look, her eyes indignant to everyone else, but oddly playful and knowing to him.

"Oh yes, I am, there are things this baby needs and I'm going to make sure you boys get it right." _Woman's got fire, Ah'll give 'er that. _

He thought about arguing more with her, just for the hell of it, but figured he could keep her in the car once they got there. The next dilemma was the bike. Who was going to take it to the prison?

T-Dog was the first volunteer, saying, "I can ride, had a street bike when I was younger." _Ah fuck nah, ya dumbass ain't touchin' m' bike. _The look Daryl gave Rick was a clear no – a fuck no. Rick furrowed his brows, but shrugged. T-Dog shook his head, but he was smiling, clearly thinkin' bout another joke that Daryl didn't get. _Prob'ly good tha' Carol sticks wit' m', an'way. Keep 'er the hell away from tha' dumbass._

They settled on Glenn taking the bike, after just a little protest from Maggie, and then they all split off in their separate vehicles.

* * *

><p>When they finally reached the last town before the 20 mile trek to the prison, Rick's only acknowledgement was a wave of his hand out the window. Carol figured it was his way of saying 'good luck' as Hershel veered the truck off down the road to town. She was sitting in the back, Rose still in her arms. Lori had tried to look contrite while they planned who was going where, but Carol still didn't trust her yet. They'd talk when Carol got to the prison, she was sure.<p>

So for now, Rose was coming with Carol. Daryl had seemed almost happy about it – by Daryl's standards of happy, at least. She imagined he was probably happy because with Rose there, Carol would have to spend her time in the truck. He hadn't wanted her to come, and he clearly liked the idea of her safely ensconced in the vehicle the whole time. She wouldn't be much help in a store, with a baby in her arms. He didn't say it outright, but he'd implied it in his look and the motion he gave with his hands, pointing to the baby and talking to Hershel in private before they'd loaded up in the truck. _Momma Bears have been protecting their cubs in the wild for centuries. Sexist is what it is. _Thinking it, she rolled her eyes in the back seat, and then caught him looking in the side view mirror at her, a sly smile on his face, and she smiled sheepishly.

But she didn't protest when Hershel stopped the truck and Daryl glanced back and said, "ya got that list? Yer stayin' 'ere with the lil' one." She simply nodded her compliance and handed him the list she'd been scratching out during the drive. Rose was sleeping soundly. Carol was amazed how quiet this little baby was. Rose had to be hungry by now, but still the baby slept, almost as if she instinctually knew how important it was to be silent.

She watched Daryl and Hershel cross the parking lot into the store. A walker appeared from the side of the building, but no matter, Daryl whipped the crossbow up and his arrow was straight on. The walker dropped to the ground without a noise. _I want that._ The man, yes, she definitely wanted the man, but she also admired his grace with the weapon. The way it seemed effortless when he had to defend himself. The way the crossbow looked like just an extension of his arm and not a heavy hunk of metal, wood, and string. She wanted that too. She wanted that ability, even half of his grace and self-assurance with a weapon would do.

They disappeared inside the building, and that's when the movement several buildings over caught her eye. She caught sight of something dart between two buildings down an alleyway maybe 500 yards away… a hint of blonde hair… _Andrea? _The only semi-weapon in the truck was a metal baseball bat that Rick had taken from their last supply run – a surprise for Carl's birthday coming up. But Carol was out of the vehicle with the bat the moment she saw the walkers appear in the alley… moving in the direction the person had run.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N – **I swear the fastest way for me to update, is to say I'm absolutely not going to update. I'm like a child – you tell me no, and I just have to do it. Well, here it is anyway. It's a shorter one. I hope you don't mind the shorter ones - I'm trying to mix it up. I'm hoping you like it. Thank you for reading and for all the reviews! You're all the best and you totally make me love writing even more.

* * *

><p>Chapter 18 – Good to Go<p>

Carol glanced back at Rose, as she quietly shut the door. _She'll be alright. I'll be right back. And Daryl and Hershel aren't far away either._ Her hands were clammy on the bat, she was definitely nervous, her heart beating fast and loud. But that person looked too much like Andrea to not at least go investigate. She felt confident Daryl would do the same… _but somehow I don't think he'd like me going off to do it. _She pushed that thought aside as she crept quietly down the street toward the alleyway.

When she reached the alleyway, the first thing she saw was at least ten walkers, moving slowly, but deliberately toward something or someone at the end of the alleyway. The person had clearly ducked down the alleyway to get away, but was thwarted by a chain-link fence at the end of it.

Carol couldn't see the person yet, but could hear him or her – _no, definitely a her_ – as the woman killed the closest walker, exclaiming loudly, "I am so sick of this shit!" And a muffled gun shot, as Carol came closer. The woman had her back to Carol, and was backing quickly towards Carol's end of the alleyway, while shooting the walkers that threatened to stop her escape. "When does this shit end? Seriously, God, I could use a damn answer here…" The woman's gun clicked empty and she spun around to make a dash for it right into the face of a walker.

Carol imagined she was a character in one of her favorite movies from before, "A League of Their Own", choked up on the bat, squeezed her eyes shut and swung, feeling satisfied as she connected solidly with the walker. Things were a blur for a moment when she opened her eyes – another walker – _batter up_ – and she worked side by side with the other woman until the last one had fallen. Then she turned…

"Oh my God, Carol! Is that really you?" Carol was so filled with relief at the sight of Andrea that all she could do was drop the bat and hug the woman tightly.

"We thought you were dead," Carol exclaimed, "you saved my life and then you went down and we thought you were dead!"

"Oh it's so-oooo good to see you, and, hey, I think we're even now," Andrea said looking around at their fallen adversaries.

They were interrupted suddenly by a loud, "Goddammit, woman! Wha' the hell ya doin' over here?"

* * *

><p>When Daryl had gotten back to the truck – <em>motherfuck…empty, wha' the hell this woman tryin' ta do ta me? <em>"Sonovabitch," Daryl said and Hershel just shook his head.

"I'll wait here. She couldn't have gone off far."

And then there she was, surrounded by a shit ton of walkers lyin' on the ground, hugging some stranger like they was family or somethin'. "Goddammit, woman! Wha' the hell ya doin' over here?" _'Sides from tryin' ta give me a goddamn fuckin' heart attack. _

And that's when he saw Andrea… "Well if it ain't Annie fuckin' Oakley? Where the hell've ya been?" He didn't grin or anything fuckin' crazy like that – _Not like I's got ovaries or shit like tha' now _– but he smirked a little as he said it, clearly just as pleased as Carol was to see Andrea.

They were interrupted by the squeal of tires and Hershel skidded the truck to a stop at the mouth of the alley – "We have to go! We're about lose our exit out of here, so come on and get in! Hurry it up!" _Ah, hell. When we gonna catch a fuckin' break._

Daryl put his hand behind Carol and guided her quickly ahead of him towards the truck, motioning for Andrea to go too. Hershel looked startled to see Andrea, but there wasn't time for welcomes – he hit the gas, Carol grasped Rose to her chest to keep her safe, Daryl wrapped his arms around both Carol and the baby as he glimpsed what lay ahead, the strangest look of astonishment crossing Andrea's face as he did it. _Hold the fuck on._ And then the truck was bouncing, rocking, and tossing them all over the place as they crashed into a swarm of walkers at least 4 deep and Hershel gunned it to propel the truck over the fallen bodies.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - **I should mention that I'm not ignoring Michonne… she just doesn't happen to be with Andrea at this point… gee, I wonder what might have happened to her… Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it!


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N – **And on to the prison! I've only ever read the first couple of comics, and obviously the show hasn't gotten there yet so I'm completely taking creative liberties (with a little light research via the internet) from here on out. I also apologize because I've never been to Georgia so if any facts I mention, locations and the like, are incorrect – I'm sorry! Thanks for reading, and as always for taking the time to review! You are all awesome and I appreciate it so much!

**Disclaimer – **Still own nothing, although I got to make up Rose and that was fun.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19 – A New Home<p>

When the truck shuddered to an even keel again on the pavement, Daryl whooped. _Boo yah, fuckin' sons-a-bitches!_ It was almost as good as the night at the CDC, with the alcohol, and the hot shower. He glanced back at the walkers fading in their dust. He caught a glance at Andrea who had an eyebrow raised and he realized one of his arms was still around Carol. He pulled it back. _Ain't_ _non'a these nosy fucks bus'ness wha' go on with me and my woman._

"Whose the babe?," Andrea spoke up looking at Carol, "Can't be Lori's… I wasn't gone that long." She laughed as she said it.

"It's a long story; we're calling her Rose," Carol said, not taking her eyes of the little one. Carol looked up at Andrea, "where have you been? And how did you end up in that town of all places?"

Andrea smiled, "That's a long story too." Clearly there was a lot that needed discussing when they reached the others.

* * *

><p>The sun was on its way down. The prison loomed before them. It was massive. A veritable fortress. Carol looked awestruck at it. There'd been nothing but woods and field and nothingness for miles upon miles, and then suddenly there it was. She'd been almost content during the drive, Rose in her arms, and Daryl had kept a hand at her back the whole time, rubbing his thumb across the fabric of her shirt. It had been innocent enough, and she'd felt like a teenager with a secret – the feel of his warm hand against her, a touch just between the two of them, for no one else to see.<p>

They could see the other vehicles already parked inside what looked like a gated courtyard. Hershel maneuvered the vehicle toward the closed black gates. "They must already be inside…," he commented as the gates groaned loudly, creaking from disuse as they reluctantly slid open, closing again the moment their vehicle slipped inside.

They stepped outside to hear Glenn yell down at them, "Hey guys!" They could see him inside a tower off the left side of the entrance, probably sitting at the controls for the gates. He waved emphatically. _This place is incredible. But is it safe?_

The front doors opened and T-Dog stepped out with a wide grin. "Hey, Andrea!," he hollered, "thought we'd seen the last of you!" He ran forward a few steps and enveloped the woman into a hug.

* * *

><p>Rick came out shortly and welcomed them. He reported the group had gone through at least the immediate section of the prison, the place where they'd bunker down for the night and then they could do a more thorough search of the whole place. It would take a few days to finish the whole thing. But near as they could tell, it was deserted. It had running water, some generators still half-filled so they could get the electricity up and going too if they wanted. Daryl wasn't so sure about the place. <em>Sometimes ya dream come true, ain't nothin' but a nightmare ya don't know bout yet. <em>

They all congregated together in what looked like a conference room inside, the door to which was just off the lobby of the prison. A lobby complete with white marble floors and black, menacing marble walls. _Ain't like no dirtbag place I ever fuckin stay'd b'fore. _

They all listened to Andrea as she told them her story. Daryl kept one eye on Carol while he listened. She'd dug out a bottle from the stuff him and Hershel had grabbed and was feeding the baby some kind of off-white watery substance. He thought about the way she'd shivered in the truck, when he'd run his thumb across her back. _J__us' wait'll I git 'er alone later. _

"I tell you, I was sure I was dead. I was out of ammo, I killed one walker with the butt of my gun, but they just kept coming. There was no end to it. And then suddenly this walker in front of me gets split in half, and I'm lying there my hands dug into the leaves and I look up and there's this woman, she's beautiful, and she got two walkers chained on either side of her, and the largest knife, no, a sword, I've ever seen!"

"She calls it a 'katana'. You wouldn't believe this woman. Seriously, guys, she's amazing."

"Where is she now?," Rick asked.

Andrea frowned. "When we got out of the woods, this truck came up alongside us. Army truck. One of those big, green camo Hummer things. Two guys jumped out and I thought they were alright. They seemed alright. Michonne – that's her name – she wasn't so sure, but they seemed to say all the right stuff. Said there was a town they were heading to, not too far away, infection was contained and they could get us help, food, the government was there."

She sighed, her hands fidgeting together as she continued, "I… I, uh, I talked her into it. I told her we should go, it'd be our best chance. So we got in, and they took us to this place. The sign said Woodbury. And when I thought they said 'the government', they'd really said 'the governor'." She paused to take a breath.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N – **Quick update. And probably the last one for the day because I want to give Daryl and Carol's alone time the attention it deserves. LOL. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you like this next chapter!

* * *

><p>Chapter 20 – Tale of Woodbury<p>

"Where's this Woodbury place? And the governor, what or who the hell is that?," T-Dog said taking advantage of Andrea's pause. Daryl had noticed him stand up abruptly when Andrea said her savior's name, Michonne. Clearly there was something going on in the man's head.

Andrea ignored his questions for the moment and continued, "when we got there, it seemed kind of okay. There were actual people there, an actual working Wal-Mart, even something that looked like a theater, and one of the soldiers said he'd take us to meet Mr. Blake."

"Mr. Blake is the governor… the governor of Woodbury, and there's something not right with him. Michonne knew it right away, she said it to me the moment we stepped inside the room. But by then, they'd shut the doors behind us and had their guns trained on our backs."

"They do things in Woodbury, things you can't even imagine. They took Michonne's walkers from her… they were, well it doesn't matter, but they were the people she loved before, before everything went to shit… she tried to stop them, but she was knocked to the ground, and then one of the men kept kicking her, and then everything went dark. When I woke up we were locked in a cell."

"There was a girl in there with us. Just a child, a teenager. She'd been locked down there for nearly 8 months. She told us what the governor had done to her. He killed her whole family… apparently the theater I thought I saw. It's not a theater, it's an arena. And they pit people against walkers for sport there, like dog-fighting but with… using us. They pit walkers against other walkers, and they pit people, regular people, against walkers. The governor offers freedom to any man or woman who makes it out alive against his army of walkers. This girl's family didn't make it out. And when it was her turn, he didn't put her in. She had to go with him, and do things. He called her his pet, and made her do weird sex stuff with him, all the while talking about how he was going to kill her afterward."

"This girl was terrified. She was pregnant when we met her. His baby - the governor's. Apparently, once she gave birth he was going to kill her." Something clicked inside Daryl's head… _Nah, can't be. Nah fuckin' way. _He held his tongue, letting Andrea finish.

"We knew we had to help her. We had to help the girl escape. She was so young. She'd only come to the United States a few months before the infection started. So Michonne came up with a plan. I'm telling you, this chick is amazing."

"We'd distract the guards, Michonne and me, and this girl would run. She'd been almost everywhere in the building, so she thought she could find her way out. We figured we could run too, after we got the guards out of the way. It didn't work, or at least I don't think so. They grabbed me pretty quick and locked me back up. Last I saw Michonne, they had taken her and dragged her out to see the governor. She was all bloody and unconscious. I don't know if they killed her, they might have, she didn't come back though. I never found out what happened to the girl…"

Daryl spoke up, "Back up a sec… the girl, ya said she was young, was she Asian?" Andrea looked at him. She nodded. Daryl glanced at Carol. She held Rose a little tighter in her arms in understanding at his look. _The gov'ner's baby. _

Rick interrupted, "How'd you get out?"

"The governor. He ordered them to kill me, but he said he didn't want it done there. Said I'd offended his gesture of hospitality and I didn't deserve to die there. So they took me out into some woods, two of them, they were going to kill me. They didn't expect me to fight back. Michonne had a knife on her when they locked us up. She'd left it for me, must've known we'd never make it out, probably thought she'd end up locked up with it again. Well, I surprised these guys… didn't even know what hit them, and then I grabbed their guns and ran as far away from that place as I could get."

"How far away you think this place is? Woodbury?," Carol said. She looked frightened. Daryl looked at her. _Bastard 'ill never get his hands on tha' kid, I has anythin' to say bout it._

Andrea spoke up, "has to be at least 30 or 40 miles, half-a-days worth of running was what it took to get me to that town where you found me."

They all looked around at each other. Woodbury. The governor. This was a threat they couldn't have surmised.

* * *

><p>It was late, and it seemed like there wasn't anything more to say for now. They were all worried. A night's rest wasn't going to change that, but at least when they woke up in the morning it'd be a new day and they could go on from there. Decide what, if anything, to do. Carol fretted. She held on to Rose like her life depended on it. <em>I'll keep you safe, little one, you can count on that. <em>

Lori approached Carol cautiously, motioned towards a hallway and said, "I made up a room down there for you. For you and her." It was an apology without actually apologizing, but it'd been a long day – _a long month _– and Carol wasn't in the mood for any more fighting or talking or 'I'm sorry's'. She nodded, tried to smile at the woman gently. She caught Daryl's eye… _you better be joining me tonight_… and tilted her head towards the hall where Lori had directed. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his chin up at her. She could feel her own excitement push aside the stress of Andrea's tale.

The last thing she noticed as she walked away was T-Dog hunching down next to Andrea at the table, the seriousness on both of their faces as they talked.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N – **And this chapter is why I am not good at censoring myself. Anyway, I certainly hope you enjoy it. Not sure when I'll get to update over the next few days, but I'm sure I'll try. In case, I don't get anything up before the holiday – Happy Easter to all who celebrate it. And if you don't celebrate it, have a great weekend and have yourself some chocolate anyway, or whatever makes you happy really. For me, it's chocolate. Thank you for your reviews. I love hearing from you!

* * *

><p>Chapter 21 – Pretty Little Thong<p>

Daryl lingered a moment as everyone dispersed to their separate quarters. He wanted to make note of where everyone ended up. He didn't actually fuckin' care what they thought about him and Carol, but he didn't exactly want to end up as group gossip either. They could say whatever the hell they wanted about him. But he felt like Carol was worth more than that. He felt like he owed her more than that. And what they had, well, it was worth a hell of a lot more than anything the group could ever think.

There were several hallways branching off the main lobby, clearly each representing a different 'cell block'. After an obviously brief but intense conversation with Andrea, T-Dog had volunteered for first watch from the gate control tower. Daryl watched Carol head down her hallway; Lori and Rick went off with Carl down a second; Hershel, Maggie and Glenn wandered down a third; and then it was just him and Andrea. She stood, looking expectantly at him. He cleared his throat. _Can't she jus' go off and find 'er__self some other place to be? Fuckin broad's holdin' me up. _He tried not to look noticeably uncomfortable with her standing there, but he must have failed miserably as she finally grinned and said, "Well, I can take a hint," heading off in the direction that Lori, Rick and Carl had headed.

He started down the hallway that Carol had disappeared down, keeping his steps light and quiet. She was four cells in, the gated door open. They were sleeping on cots, prison beds, and she was already lying on it, her elbows propping her up, head down and in a book, her knees bent up, bare calves perpendicular to the bed and legs crossed at her ankles. Because she hadn't heard him creep up, he was able to stop in the doorway and admire her before the moment was broken. He was growing hard just watching her. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat.

* * *

><p>Carol looked up. "Well fancy meeting you here…," she said. He narrowed his eyes at her, made a gesture like he might if he was tipping his hat to her, "Yeh, fancy that." She nearly giggled. Who was this Daryl Dixon and how'd she get so lucky? He seemed to have a million personalities and she had a reason to like every one… even the surly and angry Daryl. But this sexy and flirty Daryl was such a delight to see.<p>

She pulled herself up and sat cross-legged on the bed. Lori had made a makeshift crib for Rose out of a second cot on the other side of the room, piling blankets and pillows and suspending them there with some cheap plywood – _probably Rick's input on the matter _– so that Rose couldn't roll out. When she'd seen it, she instantly knew she could forgive Lori. To go to all that trouble, the woman must be feeling pretty bad. Carol had made a mental note to get up early and help make breakfast.

After putting Rose down, she'd changed, pulling on a long T-shirt that stopped just at the top of her thighs, and a fancy pair of underwear – _my first thong! _– that she'd found and taken from their first town after leaving the farm. She could remember seeing them and thinking, _Ed never let me wear what I wanted to wear. Well, dammit this is my time and I'll wear whatever the heck kind of panties I want to wear. _So she'd taken a few fancy pairs of underwear, thongs and silk and lace, and some bras as well. _I might as well match_. She felt kind of slutty wearing them since she never had before, but it was a nice feeling – a confident feeling. And there'd been plenty in the store. Apparently, women in the apocalypse were not concerned with wearing sexy underwear. _I can't understand why not… If I have to die, I'd like to at least feel desirable while doing it_.

* * *

><p>When Carol swiveled around on the bed, dangling her bare feet down to the floor, Daryl caught a glimpse of neon green between her legs. His erection was rubbing at his jeans at the sight of her bare legs. Her entire body seemed smooth to him. It was a puzzle how a woman could be so beautiful after taking so many beatings from her fucked up lazy ass husband. He thought she must be like bone, because every time that bastard must've broke her – <em>fuckin worthless sonovabitch – <em>well, Carol – _my Carol _– just healed herself back up that much more strong.

"How's ya side?," he asked. She touched the side of her body where she'd been shot and shrugged.

"Nothing I can't handle." She patted the side of the bed. "Come sit down. I've been waiting for you. Thought maybe you weren't coming." Her smile said she was playing with him – _ya knows I was comin'_.

He was almost to the bed when she stood up to meet him, her lips finding his. On his way here, he'd thought maybe they'd talk a bit, discuss everything that had happened, everything Andrea had said, but the moment her fervent mouth touched his all that was gone from his brain – _fuckin vanished _– and all he could think about was drinking her in.

His hand grazed her thigh, and he slid it up her shirt, feeling the silky fabric of underwear at her hipbone. He moved his hand to cup her ass, it was bare – _fuck _– and the softness of her skin made his dick jump, scraping against the front of his pants in the process. She had pressed herself against him, clearly pleased that her body could get such a rise out of him.

"Woman…" he breathed into her mouth, and he was moving her back, back to the cot, but before he could lay her down, she pulled away.

"My turn to be in control, Daryl…" And she moved around him, his body turning with her involuntarily. He had to be close to her again, he had to feel her body pressed against his. He could feel the side of the bed, rigidly pressed against the back of his leg. She kept her eyes on his as she undid the button to his jeans, zipped them down, and slid them down off his ass, freeing his erection. She slid her body down his, the fabric of the shirt moving up as she slid so that when her stomach, her breasts, when they brushed against his dick it was just pure skin against skin. He groaned. _Fuck._

Her tongue touched him, darting out of her mouth quickly to rake against the very tip of him. His body convulsed. _God I coulda lose it right ther'. _She took a more lavish taste of him and his head tipped back, "God, woman…," his voice was hoarse with desire. _She's tryin' ta kill me. This was 'er damn plan all 'long. _He couldn't take it anymore. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she responded, pulling herself up again so that he could take her mouth with his.

She pushed against him and he sat back onto the bed, the blanket scratchy beneath his legs and ass, and she straddled him – not even bothering to remove her underwear, just pulled it to the side – guiding herself above him and then down on top of him… slowly letting him into her. She was moist and warm and tight around his cock, he moaned, his head tilted back as she slowly went inch by inch letting him in. His eyes were squeezed shut and he could feel everything, every squeeze, every tremor between her thighs. _Oh fuck… goddamn_.

"God, Daryl, you don't know what you do to me," she whispered and let her tongue flicker against his bared neck. She could've strangled him right then and there and he'd have let her. He'd let this woman with the amazing tongue do anything she pleased for as long as she'd let him touch her.

His head came back up to kiss her hard, and they rocked together. The cot creaked lightly beneath them just enough to mask their groans as they relished the feel of each other. Their movements growing faster as she rode him, she leaned back to drive him deeper inside her. He pulled her shirt off so that he could grasp one breast, kissing, biting, nibbling and lapping at the other. She moaned, bit her lip to quiet herself. And then they were both lost in their climax, moving as one, holding their rhythm as she pulsated around his cock, and he jerked inside of her. _Fuck woman… _"Carol…," he breathed out. _I l've ya._


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N – **This one is kind of long, and I recognize that there isn't much action in it. I want to give Carol time to learn some things before the shit hits the fan… and trust me, it's coming! Thank you for all your reviews! I just adore you all so much!

* * *

><p>Chapter 22 – Asking for Help<p>

He woke sprawled across the empty cot, to the murmuring cry of Rose in her makeshift crib. He opened one eye, _No Carol_. He could smell the wafting scent of food… eggs, maybe? Definitely coffee. He considered letting the small fry keep at it and go back to sleep, but then he was pushing his legs off the bed, pulling on a pair of pants, standing up on the cold floor and padding over to peer inside the crib.

Rose's face lit into the largest smile at the sight of him peering down at her. _Well fuck now. _"Wha' are ya yappin' bout?," he said, but his voice wasn't nearly as sullen as he had intended it to be. The baby babbled, stretched an arm up at him and wriggled around like a large, ungainly earthworm. Daryl shook his head and picked Rose up. "Well, ya don't smell tha' bad…," he commented giving the little creature a whiff.

"Let's go and see wha' yer crazy ass momma's up to." _Momma? _He pondered the word for a moment and decided it fit. Carol was Rose's momma. Regardless of how the tyke had entered the world, Carol was and would always be her momma. He wondered what that made him, but he pushed that aside. He wasn't ready for that one yet. _Thirty five years old and the biggest child I know. Not 'xactly the fatherin' type. _Somehow though, as he moved down the hallway following the smell of food, he couldn't help but think of the things he could teach this child – hunting, fishing, tracking… If Daryl handled all that, and Carol taught Rose about love and people, what more would the girl need.

He thought about what he'd screamed at Carol so many nights ago, about Sophia… "Sophia wadn't mine!" It hadn't been until afterwards, after Carol had taken it, and he had hated her first for taking it, but then as the anger wore off, he'd understood. He hadn't been yelling for her, he'd been yelling for him. And maybe Carol had known that all along. Sophia had never been his, but somehow when he'd been looking for her, the sweet girl had grown inside his heart and become his that way. He'd never known before that someone could be yours without being blood. And then seeing Sophia… as a walker… and then buried in the cold ground, it had broken him and he wasn't made of bone like Carol – when Daryl Dixon got broken, he didn't grow himself stronger than before. No, when Daryl Dixon got broken, he lashed out at the world. His woman had known that, and somehow she'd managed to knit him back together all on her own.

He looked down at Rose in his arms and knew without a doubt that this baby was Carol's, and maybe, in some way he didn't understand yet, she was his too.

* * *

><p>Carol was the only one left in the kitchen by this point. It was a nice kitchen… good equipment, clean plates, bowls, cups, silverware – everything they could need really. Lori had seemed relieved that Carol was cooking and had thanked her profusely. Carol knew working with food was still hard for Lori – <em>I remember those days.<em> Carol was just finishing up a plate to bring Daryl when he wandered in looking scruffy in just his jeans, bare feet and sleeveless button-down shirt. He was clutching Rose to his side, kind of like a football, but she was giggling at him as if he was her favorite person in the whole world. Carol melted at the sight. _I love you._

"Made you something for breakfast… take a seat." She smiled and he shot his own trademark half-smile back at her. She put the plate down in front of him, and watched him switch arms with the baby so that he could hold her and hold a fork at the same time. "Coffee?," she said.

He nodded, "black's f'ne."

She placed the mug in front of him and went back to make her own food, stirring the eggs a moment, and then said, "I want to learn how to use a weapon."

He grunted from the table. And she looked back at him. His eyes were furrowed. "I'm serious, Daryl. I want to learn and I want you to teach me. I want to be able to protect Rose. I want to be able to protect you."

He shot her a look, "I don't need nah protectin', woman. I handle m'self jus' fine," he said through a mouthful of food.

She mirrored his own look, "Now don't go being like that… all stubborn and 'Daryl-knows-best'. I know you take care of yourself just fine, but I still want to be able to help. This is important to me. I can't keep going through life expecting people to take care of me."

He chewed a moment, looked down at his plate. "Fine." His voice was gruff but it made her heart leap anyway. He dropped his fork with a clink on the empty plate, pushed back from the table and walked away with the baby. She watched him go before going back to the frying pan. _He'll be back. _

* * *

><p>Daryl walked with purpose towards the lobby. Andrea was just walking in as well from another hallway and she stopped him with a look and said, "Hey, I didn't notice last night, but where's Shane?" He froze. <em>Ain't it jus' like 'em bastards not to tell 'er.<em>

T-Dog's voice from behind him saved the day, "I suggest you go talk to Rick about that, babe. I just left him on watch up in the control room." Andrea narrowed her eyes but walked to the door behind T-Dog. She opened it and disappeared up the stairs toward the control room.

Daryl looked at T-Dog and gave the man a cursory nod. Daryl hoped the man understood that it was only gratitude for helping to deflect Andrea, and didn't constitute a sudden mutual friendship between the two. _Not yet anyways. I still be watchin' yer ass 'round my woman._ T-Dog seemed to understand, smiled and said, "No worries, man." _A'ri__ght then. _Then Daryl headed down a hallway in search of Lori.

He found her folding laundry. She startled when he said, "Ya over yerself yet?"

"Jesus, Daryl! Make some noise, will ya? You scared me to death. I swear." _Well, that's temptin'. Then I'd get ta pop a bullet in yer dumbass head._ He wasn't overly fond of the woman. He respected Rick, and he'd make himself civil with the man's wife, but he wasn't going to go out of his way or nothin' for the broad.

He repeated himself, "Ya over yerself yet?"

Lori stood up, wiped her palms against her jeans and said, "How's that now?" Her hands were on her hips now and her voice grated at him. _Crazy bitch don't understand nothin'… fuck it, I'll find someone else._ He huffed and went to turn away. "Oh, you need someone to watch Rose? Because I can. Really, I feel bad enough about what I said. The way I acted. I don't know what came over me. I'd be happy to watch her. Carl can help if you don't want it to just be me. It'll be… it'll be good practice."

He paused, turned back to her. _Yer ass should feel like shit bout wha' ya fuckin dumbass said. Bullshit, wha' it was. I ain't lettin' ya off the fuckin hook that easy._ He was regretting his decision to even come here, to even seek the bitch out to ask. Carol might be good at all this making nice shit, but he sure as hell wasn't.

His thoughts were interrupted by Carl's voice from the hallway, "Oh yea! Can I watch Rose? Please mom? Please Dar… umm… Mr. Dixon?" Reluctantly, he left the baby in their care, and headed back to where he'd put his stuff to grab the bag he'd left there the night before.

* * *

><p>Carol had just finished eating when she felt the hair rise on the back of her neck… sure enough, when she turned, there was Daryl stepping into the room. <em>Man's like a ghost the way he floats around this place. <em>_I should get him a bell or something._

"Where's Rose?," she asked.

"With Lori and Carl. Tyke's jus' fine. Ya wanna learn? Yer serious bout this? We gonna do it right then. And we start now." He pulled the lightweight crossbow he'd picked up from the last town out of the bag. Carol was thrilled at the sight of it. _Why, __Daryl Dixon... aren't you just full of surprises._


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N – **Short update… I wanted to make this just about Carol's crossbow lesson. Hope you like. I apologize if any of my crossbow details are incorrect. Please read and review. Thank you!

**Disclaimer – **Haven't disclaimed anything in a while so I thought I'd throw it in. Still own nothing. Don't own the Walking Dead or it's characters. Also don't own the crossbow I mentioned – I looked it up online.

* * *

><p>Chapter 23 – Arrow Meet Target<p>

The sun was bright in the back courtyard. Carol had to squint at first when they went outside. Daryl looked around for a target, finally settled on some old and moldy bales of hay. He stacked a couple upright against the fence. On their way out, Daryl had explained quickly to her that the crossbow was a youth version, called an Excalibur Pixel. It didn't have the power and velocity that his crossbow had, but it was great for training and light enough for her to be able to use fairly easy.

He'd taken about a dozen arrows from the store with it and he told her that if she was serious, they'd practice every day. "Have ya shootin' squirrels in nah time," he said.

Carol had nearly laughed at the idea – _I probably shouldn't tell him that once upon a long time ago I was a vegetarian _– but she'd kept the irony of that to herself because Daryl hadn't been joking when he said it. And she'd be damned if she'd say or do anything to disappoint him, especially when he'd agreed to help her. _Even better than agreed, he'd gotten the crossbow before I even asked_. Carol Peletier was going to learn to defend herself. She was sure that wherever Sophia was – _heaven, I'm sure_ – her daughter was proud of her. The sun beating down on her back was all the proof she needed. It was like Sophia's gaze at her back – _I always did call you my little sunshine._

* * *

><p>After a quick demonstration, Daryl stood back to watch. She had difficulty cocking the weapon at first, but she was patient and she kept at it until she was finally able to do it in one fluid motion. She looked at him, seeking approval. <em>Good, woman.<em> "Eh. Gotta get it faster than that. Ya'll work on it more. Speed's key, ya know, 'less ya wanna get eaten." _And ya best not git eaten, woman._

Next she went to work shooting at the target. Her first eight shots missed by a mile. "Hold up," he said. She looked back at him. "Ya needs to focus." He stepped behind her, put both hands on her shoulders, kneaded there for a moment and then slid his hands down her arms to direct them and the crossbow up. He spoke in her ear as he used her body to aim the weapon, his voice low and deep, "Concentrate. Ya's gotta clear yer mind. Fuckin' bow deserves yer full attention. All tha' matters is the feel of it in yer hands, all ya see is that target." His body was pressed against the full length of her, their bodies almost as one, he felt her tremble against him. He whispered, "and shoot…" She pulled the trigger, felt the power of the machine pull back as the arrow shot forward, a satisfying THOCK as the arrow lodged itself into the hay. She grinned, looked at him with pure joy on her face. _There it is. Nothin' better. _

He nodded. "'kay, now ya do tha' on yer own."

* * *

><p><em>Damn.<em> Carol's body felt the loss of him as he stepped back and away from her. It was nice to hit the target but it was even nicer to feel him against her. But it was clear by the look on his face that the time for fun was not now. She tried to shrug off the flush of heat building in her lower body and focus on the task at hand. She aimed the crossbow again on her own, hit the trigger… and the arrow whizzed by the target. _This feels like a lost cause._

"Don't be givin' up now." His voice was gruff, but still kind. She didn't look back at him, just reloaded and aimed again. The arrow hissed by the target, she was closer this time… She reloaded, narrowed her eyes and adjusted herself. _I'm going to do this._ Before she could hit the trigger, she heard Daryl cluck softly with his tongue behind her. She stilled herself, tried to clear her mind… she was off, maybe a half-inch. If she'd pulled the trigger the arrow would have missed the target for sure. She made the adjustment, hit the trigger, and THOCK. "That's right!," she yelled without thinking, then covered her mouth in horror with her free hand. She looked at him wide-eyed.

He grinned. "At'll do for day one."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N – **I actually skipped a full day without updating. It was difficult. I'll try not to make a habit of it. Here's the latest chapter… get ready, because it's going to be a bumpy road pretty soon. Hope everyone has a great day today and a Happy Easter! Thank you for reading and for all the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 24 – Getting Too Comfortable<p>

It rained the next two days. Hard, bitter cold rain. In the mornings, Carol spent her time with Daryl in the gymnasium with her crossbow. Daryl had even, grudgingly – _probably more with sign language than with words _– asked T-Dog and Glenn to play basketball, make noise, and create chaos as a distraction for her. Carol had chuckled to herself when the two men had hustled around the court, far more competitive than a game of one on one necessitated, but Daryl had remained a statue, ignoring anything but the task at hand. Daryl's instructions remained gruff as well, and he held himself back from her when the others were around. But she could feel his eyes on her as she aimed the bow each time, and sometimes his hands were there, touching her arm, or her hip, adjusting her even though by now she knew to adjust herself well enough. She was okay with being kept at arm's length during the day as long as she had him completely in the evenings. And during the evenings… well, in the evenings, Daryl never held himself back.

In the afternoons, she spent time with Rose and sometimes a despondent Maggie in the library while Daryl, T-Dog, Andrea, Glenn and sometimes Rick worked on searching the rest of the monstrous prison to ensure its safety. Rick only went along when Andrea hung back. Things had been tense since Andrea found out about what happened to Shane. She rarely addressed Rick directly, and at dinner after that first full day in the prison, everyone had seen the bruise on Rick's face where the man had clearly been struck.

Carol felt much more confident shooting at hay bales but she was itching to practice hitting something that moved. She said as much to Daryl that morning, "I need to practice outside again. On a target that moves. This isn't a challenge anymore." Daryl sighed. They were alone in the gym today, the sound of rain on the tin roof the only sound while they… _really just me_… had practiced. She didn't really need him to keep watch on her while she trained, but she was grateful for the company.

He never told her 'good job', and stuck mostly to his usual neutral comments or corrections. However, she'd quickly learned that he made a different noise in the back of his throat when she'd done well versus when she'd done poorly. As she hit the target for the 12th time in a row, she heard the low hum in his throat and smiled. He said nothing, but there was a hint of pride on his face. "This rain stops tomorrow and you'll git started on those squirrels…" His fingers interlaced with hers as they left the gym so she could start dinner and he could join the others to check the last area of the prison. At the hallway, he squeezed her hand in his. _I love you._ She watched him go, the words on the tip of her tongue.

* * *

><p>Daryl knew she didn't need a babysitter. But frankly, he liked watching her shoot. He enjoyed the way her arms flexed as she aimed and the way her brow creased when she concentrated. The first day they practiced inside, he had done some shooting too, but he quickly found he preferred to just watch her. He didn't need the practice, it was always nice to have, but it was just so much more fun to watch his woman gaining confidence with the weapon.<p>

He hadn't liked it when T-Dog and Glenn joined them. Hell, he'd been the one to bring it up, but the way the two brayed around like jackasses as they played… well, it hadn't been the highlight of Daryl's day. The highlight of Daryl's day was when he finally got Carol alone in the evenings. After a day of trying not to fantasize about the woman in various sexual positions all day, and failing fuckin miserably at it… well, he was happy to be able to touch her and hold her, kiss her and taste her, the moment he had the chance. And she didn't help much, the way she sat down at the table next to him for dinner, brushing her leg up next to his, the way she licked her bottom lip after each bite of her meal, the way her eyes were always so intent on his… _woman drives me fuckin' nuts_.

Her last arrow hit the target, and he knew it was time to head off and do other things. He took her hand automatically as they turned toward the door, and he liked the warmth she offered, the way her heat traveled up his arm, practically all the fuckin' way to his heart. At the hallway, he gave her hand a squeeze, reluctant to let her go. _I l've ya. _He thought the words as he departed… neither of them had said it to the other yet, but it was always at the forefront of his mind these last few days.

* * *

><p>As she made dinner that night, Carol couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. At one point, she could have sworn a shadow moved in the adjoining room. She ignored it, intent on finishing the meal. Rose was boxed in on the table by pillows, babbling softly to herself. She really was the best newborn Carol had ever seen. A sudden movement again, and she whipped her head toward the hallway to look… feeling like she almost glimpsed something… no, not something… <em>someone<em>. She sighed, shook her head. _I must be imagining things._


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N – **It may take me a little longer to post the next chapter or two as I am building up to something. I want to do it justice so it might require a day or two of thought… Anyway. I hope you like this chapter and I'm looking forward to your reviews. Thank you!

* * *

><p>Chapter 25 – Looking for Trouble<p>

Daryl couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Maybe it was that he hadn't been outside in nearly three days, that he hadn't hunted in what felt like forever, that he hated the feeling of being cooped up inside with these people – _not Carol a-course, jus' 'em other dumbasses. _

They were checking over the last part of the prison today – Glenn, T-Dog, Andrea, and Daryl. Rick had stayed back; it was obvious he wasn't welcome around Andrea. Daryl couldn't blame the woman really – it was clear she had been sweet on Shane – but it didn't do the group any good to have people at odds with each other. _Sooner or later the broad has to git over 'erself… for the good of the group. _

T-Dog's loud whoop interrupted Daryl's thoughts. Daryl watched as T-Dog clapped Glenn on the back with a jubilant sound and said, "Finally becoming a man, my man! Good for you!"

Andrea came up from behind Daryl, "what's going on guys?"

T-Dog grinned, "Glenn just told me that he asked Hershel for Maggie's hand last night! Can you believe it? We're gonna have ourselves a wedding!" Glenn grinned sheepishly, his face fast becoming a bright shade of red.

"Reckon ya girl's gotta say yes first," Daryl muttered. _Weddings… 'ardly seems the time for fuckin ceremonies and shit like tha'. _

Glenn frowned at Daryl, "Yea, she's got to say yes first, yea, that's right. You think she won't?"

Daryl looked at the boy. He forgets sometimes how young the former pizza delivery boy was. "Don't cut yerself short, short-round, gal's lucky to have ya. I'm prob'ly jealous is all. Thought me and ya'd git hitched some day." Daryl grinned sideways at the younger man. The group laughed.

"Daryl Dixon, when'd you become a damn comedian?," Andrea said.

"Must be Carol's influence…" Daryl stopped cold at T-Dog's words.

"Wha' ya know bout it?" _Ya don' know shit, so shut yer fuckin mouth._

T-Dog put his hands up playfully, a gesture of mercy. "Hey, don't get all bent about it. We all know. It's not like we can't hear the two of you. Unless you want to say that's Rose moaning Carol's name in the middle of the night. I swear, that baby must be the heaviest sleeper of us all." Daryl glowered.

"Oh, T, leave Daryl alone. And we probably hear Carol more than him anyways." Andrea smiled, but she had the good sense to look reproachfully at T-Dog, and then apologetically at Daryl – now angry enough to spit fire.

"Let's jus' git this shit over with."

* * *

><p>Carol made stew that night for dinner from some salted pork and canned vegetables. They'd been lucky when they'd come to the prison because there had been food left behind that was still passable for eating. The freezer items had all been worthless, but there'd been plenty in the pantry and when added to what they had brought from their previous town raids, well there was enough to make it a few weeks before another supply run. <em>Especially once Daryl can hunt again. And maybe me too…<em> She was strangely excited to get out and hunt with him. She wasn't confident in her being able to shoot a moving target, but she was excited to try.

The feeling of being watched had finally passed as she had concentrated on cooking. She thought about saying something to Daryl later but figured he'd just think she was being a silly woman. _I'm just scaring myself and that's all. _

When the others came in for dinner, she felt proud of the meal. It was good to learn to protect herself and the group, but she was still glad to do her domestic duties as well. They all raved about the food, for the first time all eating together – _a real family meal_ – and Carol felt happy to be sitting next to Daryl as they all talked.

He ate with his right hand, and she nearly jumped when she felt his left hand come to rest on her leg.

"I don't understand why we are even discussing this… we are safe here. We can't go looking for trouble," Rick said. Carol refocused her attention on the discussion at the table. _Michonne and Woodbury._

"You don't understand," Andrea said, "she saved my life. I was going to die out in those woods after you left me for dead. Now, I don't blame you for leaving me behind, but Michonne didn't even know me. She saved my life. I owe this to her. I can't leave her there if there's even a chance she's still alive, not until I know what happened."

"If it was Lori, or Carl, you'd go back," T-Dog said.

Rick looked at T-Dog irately. "What is this to you anyway?"

"What happened to you, man? I remember when you went back for goddamn Merle Dixon. We all left Andrea for dead back at that farm and she made it out because of Michonne. If this is important to Andrea, well, hell, it's important to me and it damn well should be to you too." Daryl's grip on her leg tightened at the mention of his brother's name. _That's not it._ T-Dog's words rung false in Carol's ears. Something wasn't right. She wasn't sure that T-Dog only wanted to go to Woodbury for Andrea. She remembered how interested he had been in Michonne and in Woodbury when Andrea had told them what had happened to her. There was something else going on. She caught Daryl's eye and he seemed to be on the same page.

"What else?," Daryl spoke up.

T-Dog looked at him. "Fine. If you people need an explanation… which you don't deserve, might I add… I think I know her. Michonne. And that's all you're going to get out of me."

"So we just go back… for her savior," Rick gestured at Andrea, "and your… your what? Your long lost love?" He paused a moment and then, "We are not going to Woodbury!," Rick yelled slamming his hands onto the table with a loud bang. The room was silent as they all stared at him.

The silence was broken by hands clapping. A man stepped into the room out of the hallway… clapping his hands together. The room was still with dumbstruck silence. Then, Andrea gasped. The stranger was tall, blonde hair in a crew cut, muscular build, but it was the eyes that caught Carol's breath – _Rose's eyes. _The clapping stopped, the man smiled maniacally and said, "Oh good show, mates! Good show, but you're wrong, you know... because you are **all** going to Woodbury."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N –** This chapter was hard to write… and the next one (or maybe two, I haven't decided) will be as well. Be prepared for violence, unspeakable actions, and general horror and suffering for our poor Carol and Daryl as you read on. Please remember to blame the governor – not me – and remember that in my world, **eventually** good triumphs over evil. No matter what, eventually, good has to win.

* * *

><p>Chapter 26 – Terror and Grief<p>

Daryl had met a lot of really dangerous people in his life. He'd experienced the gamut of them in his lifetime… bad men, assholes, villains, douche-bags, real evil sons-a-bitches. His father was no saint, that's for sure. And then there was Merle. And the revolving door of Merle's prison buddies. But this man – _nah, fucker's no man, he's a monster _– standing before the group right now, grinning like a fucking lunatic, could very well be the most dangerous of anyone Daryl had ever met. Experience had taught him that the most sadistic bad guy is the one who is truly crazy. Mostly because the truly insane don't need drugs or alcohol to become cruel… no, the truly insane are just cruel all on their own.

"Isn't this quaint?," the man's voice boomed in the small room. "An honest-to-governor family dinner... cute, but I must say, it would've behooved you to leave a man on watch, now don't you think? The man guffawed loudly, "well live and learn, I suppose… or at least learn."

It was T-Dog who moved; he grabbed the steak knife off his napkin and flung it at the man… _Tha's a fuckin piss poor idea. _And then suddenly there was another man moving in front of the first, the knife lodging itself into his upper thigh. And then the group was surrounded, men on all sides of them… army-type men in fatigues with crew cuts and blank stares. The first man clucked to himself, shook his head and said, "take the knives… and here I was thinking we could have a pleasant conversation." He looked at Andrea, "oh dear, Andrea darling, did you miss me?"

Andrea's face looked stricken. "Who are you?," Rick spoke up.

The man smiled, "I call myself Philip Blake, but you'd be well-advised to call me… the Governor. I own this land. Every bit of it, and it would serve you well to remember that I am in charge." The man turned his gaze back to Andrea, "you forgot that, didn't you? I am all-knowing and all-seeing, Andrea... I might as well be God far as you and your friends are concerned. You didn't really think I wouldn't find you? Did you? Oh you did. How sad." The governor contorted his facial expression into an exaggerated frown.

"Let's get this straight… nothing, and I do mean nothing, happens in my jurisdiction… no, my kingdom… without my knowing about it. I don't always share everything with my men, of course… poor Doug and Frank didn't know you had that knife… they didn't make it by the way.," he clucked again, "a real pity. They were good men. I only accept the best. But really, who did you think left that knife in your cell? I mean, I hate to stereotype but come on, Blondie. Show a little intelligence."

The men were finishing taking all the silverware from the table. Daryl was sizing them up. The group was outnumbered. Rick was trying to remain calm. Lori was gripping Carl to her side. Hershel looked irate, on the verge of snapping perhaps… the man clearly had been through enough recently. Maggie was crying as Glenn tried to shush her. T-Dog's fists were clenched but his face was stoic. Andrea was clearly petrified. And Carol, she remained calm at Daryl's side… waiting, impassive, keeping her gaze focused on Rose propped on a blanket in the chair beside her. Rose took that moment to cry out.

The Governor had turned his back to them, but the moment the baby cried, he whirled around. "Now what was that?" His face contorted again as his eyes fell upon the bundled up baby. "A child… a young child…" _I don't like tha' look. _

The Governor reached for Rose, and Carol screamed out, "No, don't touch her; she's mine!" at the same time Andrea yelled, "She's yours, your daughter, she's Suyin's." Daryl hadn't even known that Andrea knew the Asian girl's name until she yelled it. _Ya fuckin stup'd bitch._

The Governor held Rose in his hands, peering down at the baby… "This little wretch is that traitorous whore's whelp? Ahh, perhaps. She has my eyes." His eyes locked on Carol and Daryl could see her stiffen.

"Give her back to me." Carol's voice was icy, a chill licked down Daryl's spine when he heard it.

"You have spunk… I can tell. Interesting." The Governor put a finger to Carol's chin, guiding her face to look into his eyes. Daryl clenched his fists… he whipped around his arms grabbing for the knife still imbedded into the thigh of the man standing two feet from where Daryl had been sitting, the knife made a wet, sucking sound as Daryl unsheathed it from the man's flesh, whirled to the Governor… then suddenly Daryl was tackled, his face bashing into the corner of the table. The last thing he saw was Carol's face… her look of horror, and he heard the Governor – _the devil _– say, "subdue the others… we take them all back with us! But this, this one is mine." The Governor's hand was gripping Carol's arm, and then to Daryl, the world went black.

* * *

><p>It happened so fast, one second Daryl was a flash of fury, a knife in his hand, and she was certain he was going to stab the Governor. She was reaching for Rose, and then Daryl's face hit the table with a mortifying crack. The Governor gripped her arm fiercely, "subdue the others… we take them all back with us! But this, this one is mine." He pulled at her, Rose was struggling in his other arm, and he let Carol go quickly as he backhanded the tiny child.<p>

"No!" Carol lunged at him, her fingers aiming for his eyes, any part of him, she wanted to hurt him. She was so close to him, then hands were grabbing at her from behind, and she did the only thing instinct told her too… she brought her knee up into the man's crotch wildly, connecting… The Governor yelped, pitched forward in pain as she was dragged back and away from him.

The Governor's men held her, holding her back as she struggled against them… _For Rose, I have to get Rose… _The Governor straightened up. His face was purple. The baby was still in his other arm. He looked at her menacingly. "Your punishment for that will be severe. Insolence will not be tolerated." He placed his hand over the baby's face. Carol noticed how a ring on his middle finger sparkled in the light as she started to sob… his hand gripped the baby's face, he was pressing his palm against Rose's mouth, suffocating her, the baby was squirming but he held her tightly. Carol struggled, sobbing, choking, there was nothing she could do… the men's hands grasped her firmly, dragged her back away from the Governor as he suffocated her child… _No! _The baby stopped moving in the Governor's arm, and he lifted his hand up to wipe the baby's spittle off on his shirt. "Let's go… we're done here." Carol collapsed in a heap, her mind unable to concentrate on anything but her own grief as she was dragged from the room.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N – **I wanted to update fast… and I'm hoping to finish the next chapter by tomorrow. There will be bad, some good too though (if you can imagine good in a world created by the Governor), and then maybe a hurdle or two for our heroes (Daryl and Carol) to get through. They will get through it. Just bear with me.

Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 27 – The Devil's Tale<p>

Daryl woke briefly on a cold concrete floor. It was damp, and his eyesight was muddled pink from the blood that had dripped down the side of his face and congealed on his eyelashes. He groaned, and turned his head to the other side, blinking the room into view.

The room was dark; a movement across the room caught his attention… a woman sat cross-legged on a bare mattress on the floor. She wasn't paying attention to him, her hands tracing words across the mattress. Her skin was the color of mocha, her hair in dreads, a long jagged fresh scar on the side of her face… _Where's Carol? _He tried to say something, choked on the words and that caught the woman's attention.

"Oh good. It's alive." He tried to pull himself up. She got up off the floor and came over to him. "Best not to move. Pretty gnarly head wound, you got. I'm Michonne." She laid her body on the floor next to him so they could be eye-to-eye, extended an arm and took his hand in hers as a greeting.

His consciousness was slipping away. He could feel the room growing dimmer, could hear footsteps and feel the tremor of the floor as someone not far from where they were was coming closer… "Carol?," the word was a whisper and then the room and the stranger on the floor spun from view into a black abyss.

* * *

><p>Carol woke on a bed, soft cotton sheets beneath her. Her mouth tasted metallic, her eyes were sticky from sobbing. <em>Rose.<em> Carol felt broken, cracked. She pushed herself off the bed. Her feet were bare – _where are my shoes? _– and the carpet beneath her feet was soft. She surveyed her surroundings… it was a bedroom. _Where is Daryl?_ Despite the well-lit room, she felt cold with fear. She moved toward the window at one wall.

It was day outside. She had to be at least twenty stories up in some kind of skyscraper… an office building, maybe? She must have been out, sleeping or unconscious – she didn't know for certain – for the whole night. Maybe longer? A door creaked behind her and she jumped away from the window quickly. "Oh good. You're awake. Good morning, Mrs. Peletier." It was him… the Governor. He was wearing a suit, it looked expensive.

_Mrs. Peletier? _"How do you know my name?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Mrs. Peletier… that's so formal. I think I should call you Carol? What do you think, Carol? Yes, I'm definitely going to call you Carol." She looked at him. _He's insane. I need answers. I need to know where Daryl is. I need to find him. What would he do… if he was the one locked in a tower with a lunatic?_

"What do I call you?," she said.

"I prefer the Governor. But we can discuss more informal options once we've become better acquainted."

Carol paused on that thought, and then spoke deliberately, "Where am I?"

At that the Governor smiled again, "Why, this is Woodbury. You are in my personal quarters. You're a very lucky girl. Not everyone gets to visit God's bedroom, to sleep on his sheets, to bask in his goodness and glory."

Carol swallowed hard before speaking, she thought she knew what he wanted to hear, "Yes, I am very lucky. Thank you for this."

The Governor seemed pleased and she thought maybe she could ask again, "How did you know my name? I don't remember being introduced." She tried to mimic his regal tone and formal manner.

"Oh I know a great many things. I've always thought knowledge was power, wouldn't you agree?" She nodded. She figured that maybe he was a man who felt the need to fill empty silences. That maybe if she kept quiet, and just listened, adding the right prompts at the right moments, he'd just spill out all the information she needed to know. _Like where to find Daryl._

"Once you know a person's face, you can find out all there is to know. When you have the right equipment, that is. And the know-how on using that equipment, of course. They fired me, you know, after twenty years of servitude, they just fired me. Said I was becoming a danger to the system." Carol was confused… he was veering off track and she had no idea how to redirect the conversation. What possible cue could she give?

She spoke up softly, "Well they were wrong, of course."

"Of course," he said, "those delusional idiots. The Department of Defense. Might as well call themselves the Department of the Defenseless. I gave them twenty years of my life. I designed their records-keeping system; I created the very capability to search for a person's information based on their physical appearance. It was my baby. And they took it away from me. They thought they'd seen the last of me, that's for sure. Thought that I would just roll over. And I might have. If not for this glorious infection. I don't know what or who caused it, but it was the best thing to ever happen in my life. The moment the infection took over, I knew it was my time to shine. And I stole my baby back."

He wasn't making much sense, but she gathered that he wanted to instill pride in his accomplishments, "that's fascinating. An actual program where you can find out a person's name just based on their physical traits?"

"Yes. Not just their name though. You can find out everything. Hospital records, legal documents, any record information from any government entity… you can gain access to it all. My pride and joy, that was."

Carol didn't know what to say, but luckily he just continued. "I know everything about you now. Your marriage to Ed, where is that lucky bastard? Your three miscarriages… very sad. And Sophia's birth certificate, I didn't see her with the others. I saw the hospital reports for all those falls down the stairs you had. You must be very clumsy. The restraining orders against Ed, your depiction as the poor battered housewife. The divorce papers you filed… why did you dismiss that case again? Did Ed win you back over with his charm? His wit?" _His fists. _Carol hadn't realized she was holding her breath until he stopped speaking.

He stepped closer to her. "You know, I can make you very happy here. There's food, shelter, comfort. You can have everything you want by being with me. And as long as you can put up with… a few… unpleasantries… I will be happy to give you a good life. I'm a God among men, if you can call them that… the fools. No one can give you what I can." She chilled on the word 'unpleasantries.' The way his tone turned bitter on the word. It terrified her. She shrank back from him, turned toward the window…

"You know, though. The only thing the computer can't tell me… well, it's the only thing, I am so insanely interested in knowing…"

Her voice was soft, "What's that?"

"What is it you see in that stupid… fucking… redneck?"


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N – **I should be doing other stuff. But this story is dying to get written. I'm just dying to get past the governor and get back to writing happiness and not angst…

Anyway… I am nervous about posting this chapter and the next as I'm pretty sure no one will like them. But just try to imagine how great it's going to be when the governor gets his. Please read and review. Feel free to say you hate it (that probably applies more to the next chapter than to this one).

* * *

><p>Chapter 28 – A Little Surprise<p>

Without thinking, she spun to face him, "Don't you call him that! You don't know anything about him! He is a good man… and you… you're just a fucking lunatic!" _This is counterproductive._ She regretted her actions quickly. She needed to know where Daryl was; she needed to get to him before it was too late. _I can't lose him too._ And yelling at the Governor was not going to help her get answers. He smacked her, his hand connecting with her face hard, knocking her backwards, almost onto the ground before she caught her balance, a shooting pain ricocheted through her head.

"I'm disappointed. This is the thanks I get. I'll say whatever I want. About whoever I want. And you'll like it." She shook, her hand clutched to the side of her face. The Governor looked at her, tilted his head, and then smiled again, "You don't deserve your surprise. But I'm going to give it to you anyway. Consider it a gesture of good will. And you'll remember this, and be nicer next time I visit."

He moved away from her towards the door. A buzzing sound filled the room and then he was gone, another man slipping into the room in his stead. "Miss?" She kept her back to him. "Miss... he, he has asked me to bring this to you." She turned to face a small man, his face was scarred and jagged all over. He was nearly unrecognizable as a person. His ankles were chained together, his wrists as well, and a collar hung around his neck with longer chains that connected to the ones on his wrists and ankles. He was carrying something… a basket. She didn't move.

"Please?," he said, "please. If you do not take he will punish me." She sighed. She couldn't make another person suffer for her. She went over, reached for the basket. Inside was Rose. _How?_ Her heart leapt. The baby's eyes were open, and she smiled instantly at the sight of Carol. Carol made a sound of what could only be joy.

"How is this possible?," she exclaimed. Her eyes met with the other man's.

He smiled softly, kindly. "He is a very powerful man."

She looked puzzled, "But he is just a man. He can't raise the dead." She was incredulous.

"No, he cannot," came another voice from the doorway. A large dark man entered the room, "Run along little dog. Your master didn't tell you to linger." The chained man cast his eyes down and fled the room quickly.

Carol took Rose from the basket and held her in her arms. "Who are you?"

The man closed the door behind him. "He calls me Babar, of all things. It's ridiculous. But my real name is Alex."

"What do you want?"

"You don't trust me. That's good. Don't trust anyone here."

"What do you know about Rose? How is she still alive?"

"His ring. It contains some kind of odorless gas. He pushes a tiny button to release it. When inhaled it renders you… unconscious? Near-dead? Something like that. To any casual observer, you appear dead, but after a few hours, you wake up as if you were sleeping," Alex paused. "It's a scare tactic. He has many of them. From his military background, I believe. He has drugs that make you see things, things that aren't real. He can make people do things. Just remember that. Whatever you see, whatever you hear. Not all of it is real." He turned away.

"Can't you let me out? Can't you help us?"

Alex turned back. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. You are on your own. We all are."

"Where are my friends? My group?"

Alex looked at her sadly, "Oh, he will show you. Just be ready."

* * *

><p>Daryl was pulled up off the cold floor, flung forward until he landed on something springy… <em>mattress?<em> He forced his eyes open. The room spun in front of him. He hollered as something heavy pinned him down. He felt a sharp pain in his neck as he was pricked with something – _needle? Wha' the fuck?_

"Bring him to me. I'd like to give his orders personally." His eyelids were heavy. His limbs felt disjointed. It was the Governor who had spoken… Daryl was sure of it. _Carol… _They'd injected him with something, but his whole body seemed to be growing weaker, hotter, almost like he could feel it… whatever poison it might be… coursing through him. The Governor's face swam into view.

"Don't worry. Just a little something to make you feel better, make you more at home here. Here in Woodbury. Carol is waiting for you. You'll be back with her in a moment." Something was wrong… Daryl could feel it. His body felt strange, his vision was blurry. He thought of Carol, it was the only word the Governor had said that really resonated with him. _Carol… Carol… Carol. _He felt himself growing hard at the thought of her.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N – **I wasn't going to post this chapter today, but I figure I might as well get it over with. I know people won't like this chapter. I've had this idea for awhile and I went back and forth as to whether or not to do it. In the end, I just decided to follow the creativity and see where it took me.

* * *

><p>Chapter 29 – Hell on Earth<p>

Something was wrong… Carol moaned underneath Daryl and his body seemed to be telling him everything was fine. But somewhere, somehow, his heart felt like this was a lie. She was telling him to go harder, faster… and he picked up the pace. He was kissing her, her lips feverish on his, her tongue claiming his own. The room was spinning, everything was blurry but her face. He seemed to be able to focus only on Carol's face. He could feel his body building to climax... her hands clutching at his ass, kneading him on as he thrusted, as they rocked together… the rhythm seemed off. _Somethin's not right…_

* * *

><p>"He doesn't love you. You see?" The Governor gripped the back of her head, forcing her to look at the screen. Carol made a muffled cry. She'd known something was wrong when the Governor came back with Alex, dragged her out of the room and down a hallway into another room. A room with a projector screen the size of a wall.<p>

Daryl was in a room with a woman Carol didn't know. The woman had pretty dark brown skin, twisty, messy hair – _dreads, I think they are called_ – and a jagged fresh scar on her face. Carol wondered if this was Andrea and T-Dog's mystery woman – Michonne. They were already having sex on the screen when they turned it on. Carol couldn't help but wonder what had happened before they brought her in. Something wasn't right with this. She knew it. She didn't doubt Daryl at all.

_If Alex hadn't told me? About the drugs? Would I believe this? _She knew the answer in her heart – _No. My Daryl wouldn't do this. Not on his own. Something is wrong. _

She didn't think that the scene was fabricated. She was certain she was actually watching the man she loved have sex with another woman, but she didn't think for a minute that he knew what he was doing. She'd have known it even if they hadn't shut down the sound the instant he moaned her name… they hadn't been fast enough and she had heard it. _He thinks it's me. _

* * *

><p>Daryl began to feel sick. He tried to focus on Carol beneath him, on the feel of her skin… it didn't feel right. <em>This don't feel right. <em>

She moaned underneath him again, "Oh, Theo…"

He startled at the name… pulled back, reeled up and back, crashed on his bare ass on the hard floor. _Wha' the fuck's goin' on…_ The room was spinning again, he focused his eyes forward on where Carol had just been… it wasn't Carol, it was Michonne. _Fuck's goin' on… wha's this shit… how the fuck did I git 'ere? Carol? Where's Carol? _Daryl scrambled to his knees, bent his head over and vomited.

* * *

><p>The minute things went bad – <em>bad? When were they ever good? <em>– in the room on the screen, Carol cringed. _Oh God, Daryl. It's not your fault. I know, I know. I know it's not your fault._ The woman had moaned something. The sound was off and Carol couldn't hear it… she wondered who the woman thought she was with, because she was certain that the woman was drugged as well. She saw Daryl start to pull back and then the screen was switched to black.

"That's enough," the Governor said, "You don't need to see the rest. I'm sure this is hard enough on you finding out that he never loved you."

Carol's stomach churned. She had hated Ed so much sometimes but it couldn't compare to this feeling of revulsion she had towards this man. She wanted to see him suffer so badly.

The screen came back on and she expected more Daryl, but no, it was Rick and Lori. Tears sprang to Carol's eyes… Rick was lying on the ground, Lori kneeled at his head, holding on to her husband's head in her lap, sobbing hysterically. Blood was bubbling out of Rick's mouth as he coughed, choked… Loud sounds filled the room as he sputtered, hacking. "No, No, No!," Lori sobbed.

"Mom! Mom! Mom! We have to stop the bleeding," suddenly Carl was in focus on the screen, he had a dirty sheet in his hands, and he was kneeling on the ground on Rick's other side, and he was pressing the sheet against his father's bloody chest. Carol had begun to shake. Her whole body was shaking so hard her teeth were clacking together.

The screen switched black again, and then back to life… it was Andrea. She was pacing in a room, pacing back and forth. Her face was bruised, one eye swollen shut. She kept pacing, pacing, pacing…

The screen switched again… T-Dog. He was pounding his fists into a cement wall, screaming. His knuckles were busted open and bloody and each time he connected with the wall, he left a slick stain of blood on the cement. His voice was strained like he'd been yelling for hours. His face was stricken, delirious. "Michonne! Michonne! Where the fuck are you girl? I'm coming for you! Michonne!"

Carol squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't see anymore, the tears were coming too hard and too fast. These were her people, her friends, her family…

Suddenly the sound of crying filled the room and Carol looked to the screen again. It was Maggie. She was lying on the ground, sobbing. She didn't look like she'd been touched, but her spirit was clearly broken. Maggie's body jerked as what sounded like Glenn screaming loudly… the camera or whatever it was panned away from Maggie. Glenn was being kicked by men, more men like the ones that had filled the prison dining room the night before. With empty dead stares, they were kicking Glenn, pulling him up off the ground to slam him into a wall, and then kicking him more when he hit the floor again. "Get away from him! Get away from him!" Hershel was there, grappling to get to Glenn. The men were ignoring Hershel, shoving him aside as they delivered more blows to Glenn.

Carol was screaming and she didn't even realize it, "Stop! Turn it off! Stop! Please!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **I know people aren't going to like this chapter. I really went back and forth on the Daryl/Michonne scene (in one, they were interrupted before it happened; in another Daryl wasn't drugged but he was forced to do it while the Governor held a knife to Carol's throat) and I'd just like to say that this isn't written to cheapen what Carol and Daryl have.

I love the Carol and Daryl relationship – it's my end game in this story. Daryl was drugged. Carol's not stupid, she knows that. And she loves this man. And he loves her. Carol will get past this. I guarantee she will - not because she's weak, but because she's strong and she knows better. There is nothing for Carol to forgive here.

The question is really how will Daryl react to this… and that's what I want to look at. Daryl is a tough man, and he loves Carol, so how will he handle what has happened in the aftermath. Because he's going to compare himself to Merle and all those other bad men he's known in his lifetime. He's nothing like them, but in his head... well, I'm sure you get the idea. So yes, I went there. Oh, and don't blame Michonne. She's drugged too. I know you won't like this whole chapter, but please, please, please be kind in your reviews. I take things personally even when I know they aren't personal, and I obsess over even the slightest negative reviews that I get. Thank you…


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N – **Quick update. I have to push through this. There won't be another one up today though. I'll see how much I can get done for tomorrow. Thank you for the reviews. Your thoughts and opinions mean a lot!

* * *

><p>Chapter 30 – A Plumbing Problem<p>

Carol felt sick. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked on the cold, tile floor. The Governor had laughed at her when she'd screamed, but the screen had gone blank all the same and then it was just her, and him, and Alex in the room. She nearly fallen, her knees were so weak and her stomach churned. So Alex had brought her into another room. A bathroom. She'd sank to the floor immediately and now it was all she could do not to curl up in a ball and cry.

_Daryl wouldn't cry. Daryl would fight. Daryl would get us out of this. _She had to do something. If she didn't it was just a matter of time before that monster did something to her… just the same as he was doing to the others… maybe something even worse. Her mind raced through the possibilities. She'd had sex with Ed when she hadn't wanted to, simply because he wanted to and 'no' really hadn't been in the man's vocabulary… but she'd never been through anything nearly as bad as what Maggie went through before, or what other women had been through probably at the hands of the Governor.

She let herself lie on the floor, feeling the cold tiles against her cheek. _I have to do something. For Daryl. For Rick and Lori, and T-Dog, and Andrea, Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and Carl. For that woman, Michonne. _What, she had no idea. She wished for her crossbow. She wished for a bat. She wished for anything… even a gun. She squeezed her eyes closed. Opened them again. Something glistening on the floor caught her eye. She didn't have the strength to get up. _I'm so weak, pathetic. I haven't even gone through half of what the other's have, and I can't even pull myself together enough to get up off the floor. Dammit._ She was angry with herself. She thought of Daryl and the last time they were together. She thought of his hand on her leg while he ate the stew she cooked for dinner. She thought of all the times he saved her, how he searched for Sophia and nearly died in the process. _I love him and I've never even told him. I have to tell him. If I die, if we die, I need him to know that I love him first. _

She pulled her body forward, crawling towards the sheen on the floor. Her hand touched the shiny tile… _It's wet. _The tile was wet in front of the sink. She opened the door to the counter-cabinet. The wood inside was wet too. Water was dripping from one of the pipes, a slow and steady drip. She touched it. It was a thin metal pipe, maybe an inch or less in diameter, and it jiggled in place a little in her hand when she touched it. It was clearly loose.

Ed was never much of a handyman, and they never had much money, so when something broke in the Peletier household, it was Carol who usually had to fix it. She was familiar with the under workings of bathroom sink. She saw the shut off valve to the faucet system – _righty-tighty, lefty-loosey_. She stopped the water. She touched the leaky pipe again… now to see if it could be dismantled. It was only about eight inches in length, small enough to hide on her body. Not really heavy enough to hit someone with, but maybe, maybe since it was hollow; when wielded with enough force, it could be a stabbing instrument. _This is stupid. It won't work._ She berated herself. She was weak, worthless… even if she could hurt the Governor; she had no idea where any of the others were being held. What could she possible do? _I have to do something. Maybe it won't help. Maybe I can't save them. But what good am I, if I don't at least try? _

Carol tried turning the pipe, pulled at it… there was a knock on the door, "Hurry it up." Carol breathed in sharply, tried to calm herself. "I'm almost done." She wiped her palms on her pants, unscrewed the pipe as best she could… it was still affixed to the piping system with some kind of plumber's glue, but it was loose, the glue was old, had lost its luster, the pipe was definitely loose. She pulled, sat up and used her feet to brace the cabinet, and pulled harder. With a pop, the pipe came off in her hands and she was propelled onto her back. She panted, but a smile came to her face. _Victory. I'm coming, Daryl. Come hell or high water, I'm going to do this. _

* * *

><p>Daryl kept his head in his hands. He had a headache… the worst hangover he'd ever had without having taken a drink. He felt like he'd been mind-fucked. He was hating himself at the moment. <em>Fuckin worthless piece of shit. No fuckin' better than my dumbshit broth'r.<em> No one could hate Daryl Dixon as well as Daryl Dixon could.

He could hear Michonne tossing something – a ball or a rock, perhaps – against the wall, hear it bouncing back, hitting the floor, and then the sound of her catching it. He groaned, rubbed his face, and then his head as he looked up.

Their eyes connected for a moment before he looked away. He opened his mouth to speak – _Ya hafta say somethin' dumbass. _But she spoke first, "Really, let's not make a big deal about it. Whatever that was, it was clearly not what either of us thought it was. I'm fine, you're fine. Let's just forget it ever happened." He nodded gratefully.

"Who's Carol?," she said. He looked at her, his eyes glaring. "Hey, just wondering. That's all. She your wife?" He shook his head. _L've of my life and I fucked it-all up some'ow._

He answered her question with a question, "Theo, ya said? Who's that?"

Michonne sighed. "This guy I used to be with, love, all that shit. Theodore Douglas. Got no idea why I even thought you, I mean it, was him. Haven't seen him years. He could be dead by now for all I know." _Theodore Douglas, now why the fuck does tha' sound familiar? _Realization dawned and Daryl snorted, started to laugh. It wasn't funny in the least, but he laughed anyway. _One those fuckin l'ugh or ya'll fuckin cry like a dumbass m'ments, I's reckon. _Michonne looked sideways at him, puzzled.

"T-Dog," he choked out.

She looked taken aback. "T-Dog," she repeated, "yea, some people used to call him that. You knew him?" Daryl was choking for real now, laughing and swearing internally. _Fuckin can't b'lieve this shit._

"Knew 'im? Fuck nah, not before… I **know** 'im. T-Dog's part my fuckin' group."

Michonne narrowed her eyes… "Shit, no? Seriously?" Daryl's head hurt and he tried to quiet himself before he doubled over again. _Really ain't funny dumbass._ "T-Dog's here? He's here somewhere?" The soberness of that thought brought an end to his laughter. _They's all 'ere, somewhere._ _Carol. And T-Dog, the Doc, Rick, Lori, that brat kid of there's, Annie fuckin Oakley Andrea, Maggie, short-round Glenn. _He thought about that last dinner, the feeling of Carol sitting next to him. His hand on her thigh, how she'd scooted closer to him._ Carol. I didn't tell 'er. I l've 'er and I never told 'er. I gotta find a way._

"Ah-yup," he said with a grave nod. And with that, Michonne started to laugh.

"Well, God-damn. I'm going to punch that motherfucker in the face." Daryl didn't know if she meant the Governor or T-Dog, but he didn't ask for clarification. _Gots-ta-be a way outta this fuckin place._


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N – **This chapter was fun. I hope I did it justice. I wanted it to be intense and graphic, but still essentially Carol. Hope you like it! Thank you for the reviews! You are all wonderful and I love hearing from you!

* * *

><p>Chapter 31 – Payback's a Bitch<p>

Hiding the pipe was harder than Carol thought and she finally settled on wedging it awkwardly into her bra – _Good thing I wore one today. _Luckily though, Alex brought her straight back to the Governor's room without a word and locked her inside. He'd brought Rose back with her as well and laid her in the basket. The baby was sleeping soundly. "We're getting out of here, Rose," she whispered softly afraid that the room might be bugged. Stranger things than that seemed to happen in this place.

She used the time alone to look out the window. It was a large building. Her room was in the tallest part, but there was another part that extended out perpendicular, almost making the building take on an 'L' shape. If she had to bet, she'd think that the others were somewhere in this same building, on a lower floor probably. She thought of the concrete walls that T-Dog had been punching. A basement.

She didn't know how this was going to work and it was just as likely she'd just kill herself in the process. But she had to try. She decided to lie on her stomach on the bed, with her hands and the pipe hidden underneath a pillow. This way, he'd have to lean over her, and he'd be close enough for her to hit something vital with the pipe. She kept her clothes and shoes on… she didn't want to be comfortable.

Her nerves were shot as she lay there. It felt like hours, but it might just have been minutes. Finally the room buzzed, and she heard the door open. She closed her eyes. "Carol? Darling, are you sleeping?" Heavy footsteps followed as the Governor entered the room. She could hear him shuffling out of his shoes, shedding his other clothes, and then the bed sank as he sat down.

She was beginning to worry about the angle. The pipe wasn't terribly sharp, hollow yes, but not that sharp. An upward angle… what if she couldn't get her weight behind it? What if it just deflected off wherever it struck? A downward angle would be better.

He nudged her, "Carol? It's time to wake up. Your Governor has needs." She cringed. This man was repugnant. But she pulled herself up to gaze at him. She tried to smile warmly and to hide the disgust in her eyes. The room was dark and she was glad for that.

"Well lie down then…," she grimaced in the dark as she continued, "sweetie… and let me take care of those needs for you." _What am I even saying? _

He seemed satisfied with that, and she moved her body to the side so that he could lie down, a wide grin on his face. "Straddle me… leave your clothes on so I can rip them off… I like to rip things off," he ordered. _That'll work._ She did as she was told, putting one knee on either side of him. His erection was nearly poking through his boxers but it was dark enough that she couldn't see. She kept one hand underneath the other pillow… it was awkward, but she figured he might chalk it up to her maintaining her balance. "Sit up," he ordered. She did as she was told, keeping her grip on the pipe.

The Governor's eyes were wide and he smiled that toothy, maniacal smile like he had that first night… she knew what was coming. He was going to hit her. She wasn't afraid. That, at least, she'd dealt with before. He smacked her hard, nearly knocking her off of him, grabbed her hip with one hand and forced her to grind her – still clothed – lower body against him. He backhanded her again, harder, and again, and one hand ripped at her shirt. She heard the buttons popping… His hand came at her again, she didn't deflect his blows, she was trying to be patient… she need an opportunity; he hit her again and then she saw her chance … "No! You don't get to hurt me again, you don't get to hurt any one of us again!," she hissed through clenched teeth bringing her hand up and jamming the pipe viciously into his left eye.

The Governor screamed, flailed and she was knocked off of him and onto the ground. He was flailing on the bed, ungainly, the pipe sticking out of his eye socket. He was trying to get up, but before he could, she sprang up… grabbed the pipe and twisted. He screeched. "Shut the hell up!," she hissed. He whimpered. She kept her hold on the pipe.

"How do I get that door open?"

"It won't work bitch. They'll grab you, they'll bring you back to me and I'll give you the beating of your life. Mine'll be the last face you ever see." His voice was too high to be as menacing as he clearly wanted. She twisted the pipe again and he screeched.

"Tell me how!," she growled feeling very much like Daryl at this point.

"There's a key pad…. The picture hanging next to the door. The code… code is 413."

She pushed down on the pipe and she felt a shudder go through him. "Where are my friends?"

"Fuck you," he hissed.

"Don't make me take this pipe out and shove it through your other eye…," she twisted it harder, almost pulling it out and then pushing it back in. The pipe made a wet, sucking sound in the man's eye socket and she nearly vomited, but held her composure.

"Basement… elevator… fucking take it out, take it out."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Governor," she said sarcastically and pulled up yanking the pipe out of the Governor's head. He howled and clutched his face, blood spilling through his fingers. She backed away. He was struggling to get up. He was still going to come after her, she knew it. He'd send his men after her. If she died… it couldn't be for nothing. This man needed to suffer. _For Daryl. And for the others._ She turned; saw the mirror on the wall. _Seven years bad luck, my ass._

She smashed the mirror with the ball of her fist, tiny pieces of glass shattered to the floor, but one large piece stayed stuck in place. The Governor was up, off the bed… he was unbalanced but moving toward her, she hadn't noticed his chest had been bare before. His chest hair was sticky with blood, and his dick still poked free out of his boxers. She whirled toward him, he was right on her, grabbing for her. She struggled against him, nearly losing her grip on the mirror shard in her hand. It was cutting into her palm, but she held fast as they struggled.

His grip was tight but unstable; he was weak with blood loss. She kneed him in the groin and he released her, stumbling back. It was like déjà vu in the dining room of the prison all over again… but this time there were no men to grab her and pull her away. He toppled, nearly fell and she moved quickly, advancing on him, bringing the shard down and across and slashing at his crotch. His scream was blood-curdling and she knew someone would hear. _They'll be coming. _He collapsed backward onto the floor. The tip of his dick hung at an odd right angle, the shard had done its damage, nearly severing it, and it hung there twitching like a dying creature. The man at her feet curled up into a fetal ball, and was sobbing. Blood spewed from his crotch, and oozed steadily out of the gaping hole where his eye had once been. She stood over him for a moment looking down, disgust evident on her face and rage screaming through her body, "Why don't you try and raise that from the dead, you psychotic son of a bitch... Where's your God complex now?"

Rose was awake and crying; Carol grabbed the basket, got the door open and ran like her life depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N – **Thank you so much for the great reviews! You all make my day by saying such nice things! Here's the latest chapter… I'm hoping to get another one up later on tonight, otherwise it'll be tomorrow. I love strong Carol, but I'm trying to remember that she's still just one woman in an unknown place with who knows how many (oh, wait… I'm supposed to know?) of the governor's men.

* * *

><p>Chapter 32 – Who's Saving Whom?<p>

Daryl walked the length of the room. This was insane. Something had to give. He couldn't stay in this room any longer. He had to know where Carol was. "Will you just sit down? That's not helping," Michonne said. He didn't care if she was annoyed but he sat down anyway. He grimaced as something poked into the skin of his ass. He reached back, felt around for the offending object, pulled it free from his skin and the fabric of his jeans.

It was like a gift. He held it in his hands and stared at it. A safety pin. He didn't know who to thank for this miracle – Lori or Carol – but someone had washed and dried his jeans, and affixed a safety pin to close a slight hole in the back pocket until they were able to sew the hole properly. He said nothing, just felt the smooth metal in his hand, and then went to work twisting it, breaking the two pieces apart. Once he had two pieces, the pin part and the clasp part, he worked to file down the spring mechanism portion of the clasp on the concrete floor. He needed two pointed pieces, and he was pretty sure he might be able to pick the lock on the door.

"What are you doing?," Michonne asked. He was vigorously rubbing the tiny metal piece on the floor… it was working, albeit slowly.

"Gettin' m'self the fuck outta 'ere," he muttered.

* * *

><p>Carol hung the basket over her arm, she didn't want to throw it away in case she needed a place to stash Rose, but she picked the baby up in her arms to shush her as they hurried down the hallway toward the elevator. <em>Elevator or stairs? Stairs. <em>She didn't want to get cornered in an elevator.

She could hear footsteps coming from the other side of the hallway, and the elevator pinged in front of her… she ducked inside the door to the stairs quickly. Four men exited the elevator and hurried down the hallway toward the room she had just fled. She wasn't waiting around for them to come back. Carol took the stairs down two at a time, rocketing down a little too fast for comfort but afraid to slow her speed.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and heard yelling… she ducked behind the stairs, her heart racing. She still had the pipe and the bloody shard with her. _Relax._ She tried to force herself to breathe steady. She looked at Rose… _I can't do this with her in my arms. I have to put her somewhere. _Her heart ached at the thought of leaving the baby somewhere. Nowhere was safe. She crouched down, took the pipe and shard out of the basket and placed Rose in gently. Rose giggled at her. Carol's eyes filled with tears as she put the basket in the farthest corner behind the stairs, hidden from sight. If Rose stayed quiet, she'd be fine here until Carol – _or someone..._ – came for her. "I know you have no idea what I'm saying, Rosie, but you have to be silent. You have to wait here. I will come back for you or I will send one of the others back for you. No matter what, someone will come for you. I love you, Rosie, and I promise you that you will make it out of here." Carol's voice cracked on that last part and she stifled a sob in her throat. _I don't have a choice. _

She crept out from her hiding place, and moved to the door to the basement. The yelling was muffled, but still loud. She opened the door and moved swiftly inside the dark and damp basement. She kept her back to the wall as she moved down the hallway, one hand clutching the pipe, the other hand holding the mirror shard. One of her palms was bleeding, but she wasn't going to let it slow her down.

That's when Carol heard soft, subdued crying. There was a door around the corner, a small window that she could look through… and there was Maggie! Maggie and Hershel and Glenn… Glenn did not look good. He was leaning against a wall opposite the door as Hershel applied a makeshift tourniquet to Glenn's leg. Carol's heart leapt. They hadn't noticed her yet, she tried the door handle. No luck. She needed a key.

"What the bloody hell are you doing down here!" Carol stiffened at the voice.

* * *

><p>Daryl had worn down the clasp of the pin until it made a fine, perhaps a little dull, point. He bent the other piece of the pin a tiny bit; he needed a slight curve on it. The door knob locked from both sides with a key, and Daryl had picked a few locks in his day. He sprang up and moved toward the door. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to work," Michonne said.<p>

"Like hell it ain't. I ain't fuckin' stayin' 'ere. Yer dumb ass is welcome to stay all ya want, but I'm-a bustin' out and findin' my group." _Carol. _He inserted the bent piece into the bottom of the lock mechanism, and pushed the second pointed piece up into the back of the lock. He wiggled the piece, twisted, and tried to feel for the shear line inside the lock. _Concentrate. Fuckin' git it done. _He felt the give in the lock mechanism and knew he had it as he turned the pointed piece in the lock again. Click. _That's fuckin right. I'm comin', Carol. Hold on a lil' longer. _


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N – **A quick update. I'm hoping to power through the next chapter and have it posted by tonight. I know I'm moving a little slowly with my pace but I promise we'll be moving on from this arc soon. Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 33 – Lost in a Labyrinth<p>

Carol froze. She was trapped. She was an idiot to think she could do this. "Turn around, now. Do it slowly." The man's voice boomed behind her. Carol's heart knocked against her chest. _What am I going to do now? _She pivoted slowly around to face the man. His gun was trained on her. He wasn't one she'd seen before, but he was a carbon copy of all the other militant men she'd seen with the Governor thus far.

"I… I…" She had no idea what to say. There was no way to talk her way out of this.

"She's here on special orders from the Governor," came a voice from the other side of the hall. She turned her head to see Alex coming up behind her.

The man looked confused, then chastised as he lowered his gun under Alex's glare, and said, "Babar, sir. I didn't realize. My apologies, sir." They stood there for a moment and Carol was sure that the man would raise his gun again and open fire, but instead after a moment, he simply nodded and turned away, disappearing down the hallway as quietly as he had come.

She stood there, flabbergasted. "I thought you said you wouldn't help me." Her voice was a whisper.

"That was before you went ahead and helped yourself."

* * *

><p>Daryl turned the knob on the door and cracked it open slowly. The hallway was empty. He looked back at Michonne. "Ya fuckin' comin' or what?" The woman looked frightened and it dawned on Daryl that she'd been down in this hellhole a lot longer than he had. He sighed. He just wanted to find Carol and get his woman the hell out of here. He didn't ask to be saddled with taking care of anybody else. Least of all this chick. Michonne represented… hell, she represented his fuckin' fall from grace or some shit like that. He'd fucked another woman. He'd cheated on Carol. It hadn't felt like cheating, hell, it hadn't even felt real. But still. Carol believed in him, and he'd let her down. <em>And she don't even fuckin' know yet.<em>

He pushed his own thoughts aside. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding Carol. After that he could figure out what to do about the rest. _Step one, git to Carol. Step two, break 'er heart. _Daryl sighed.

"Git up," Daryl ordered and Michonne obeyed. She followed him out the door into the hallway.

* * *

><p>Carol eyed Alex uncertainly. She didn't trust him. She refused to trust him. Alex sighed, and held out his hand, extending his palm out to her, offering something that was inside. <em>Keys.<em> She smiled at the sight, picked up the large ring of keys. "Why?," she said.

"Do you want to know why or do you want to save your people?" The only answer she gave was in turning away to unlock the door to the room that held Maggie, Hershel, and Glenn. Alex mumbled behind her, "Better hurry. I bought you time, but word travels fast and they'll be down here soon enough."

Carol fumbled with the keys, there were so many of them. The noise at the door had roused those inside and they were all backed against the far wall, huddling together. They couldn't see her through the double-paned window. "Whose side will you be on… when they get here?," Carol said, trying the last key and looking sideways at the much larger man. _He'd be an asset to have, what with his size and all. _

Alex didn't have time to answer as the door clicked unlocked with the turn of Carol's wrist and all thoughts of sides were lost when Hershel, Maggie, and Glenn saw her slight frame in the doorway. "Carol!," it was Maggie who yelled it, and ran to her. Maggie, who probably had never said more than a few words to Carol the whole time they'd known each other, but they embraced like old friends and Maggie breathed in Carol's ear, "You're here. You came. Someone came."

"Come on," Carol said, "we don't have much time." She watched as Hershel ducked under Glenn's arm to use his body as a brace for the younger man. Glenn was hobbling, awkwardly, slowly, and he winced as he moved.

"That's not going to work," Alex spoke out and the others seemed to notice him for the first time. Their faces were fearful and Carol could understand why. Alex's larger-than-life appearance was daunting enough even if they hadn't been experiencing the Governor's hell for what felt like forever.

Without asking permission, Alex stepped around Hershel and lifted Glenn up like a child in his arms. Glenn shook his head violently and started to struggle. "It's okay, he's a friend," Carol said keeping her voice calm. _I hope. _

They moved off in search of the others, stepped around a corner into the next hallway, and then the world seemed to explode around them. Carol was blown backwards, her small body slamming into a concrete wall and then crumpling down onto the floor. Her ears were ringing, she could feel the heat of something burning, the acrid smoke filling her nose, all around her everything seemed fuzzy as she slipped out of consciousness… she thought maybe she saw him, his face hovering over hers… _Daryl? _

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **I promise, by the end of the next chapter our group will be leaving the Governor, his men, and all that bullshit behind…


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N – **I'm going to put my author's note at the end of this one… you'll see why. Please read and review! Thank you for the reviews so far! I love hearing from you all. You are the best!

* * *

><p>Chapter 34 – Chaos and Death<p>

It was Michonne that triggered the bomb. Daryl knew it the moment it happened. He had no idea that the others – Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and some huge guy that Daryl did not know – were so close, but minutes after he saw Maggie turn the corner, the entire hallway turned into a ball of flame.

He had been walking behind Michonne, maybe five steps back, but it had been enough that the explosion didn't even seem to touch him. There must have been something on the floor, a trip wire or something. Why there would be a bomb trip in the middle of a hallway in the fucking basement, Daryl had no fucking idea. But one moment, Michonne was five steps ahead of him, yapping on about some stupid shit he wasn't really listening to – T-Dog, most likely – and then the next moment, she fucking evaporated. She literally fucking disappeared as the fire erupted, like it ate her from the inside out and she was just gone. And it might have been wrong, but his first thought – _first fuckin' thought – _was _where's Carol?_

He was surrounded by the blaze, but he pressed forward anyway, moving around it, through it. He needed to get to Carol. She had been blown backwards with the blast, and it was clear she'd hit the wall hard. "Carol? Fuck woman. Can-ya hear me?" She was dazed, and he had no idea if she could even see him, let alone hear him, and then she was out, eyes closing, head falling forward.

Daryl looked for the others. The flames, deprived of anything of substance to burn in the concrete tomb, had died down and now the entire hallway was smoky and black with particles of ash and soot – _and Michonne_. He shuddered at the thought. Hershel was helping Maggie off the floor. Her face was black with soot, and she was coughing but she seemed okay. Hershel wiped his face on the bottom of his shirt and, in any other circumstances; Daryl might have laughed at the sight when Hershel turned to face Daryl. Hershel's eyebrows had been singed off.

"Where's Glenn?," Maggie said, her voice a little frantic. "I've got him," the very large dark man that Daryl didn't know stood up, carrying an unconscious Glenn. "Who the fuck are ya s'posed to be?," Daryl said rising. Daryl's tone was confrontational and Hershel must have realized because he stepped in front of Daryl, his hand raised but withheld so that he almost touched Daryl's chest but thought better of actually making the contact.

"Easy now. He's with us. Carol… well, he and Carol, saved us."

Daryl stepped back, narrowed his eyes. He looked at the man and nodded. "I'll be watchin yer fuckin ass," Daryl said roughly.

The man tilted his head and pursed his lips before saying, "Wouldn't have expected otherwise. I'm Alex. Your other people are somewhere down here and from what I last gathered, the cop wasn't doing well."

Daryl lifted Carol up from the ground and they headed off in search of the rest.

They found Andrea first. Her face was rough to look at but she was conscious and able to walk just fine, which gave her an advantage over Glenn and Carol at this point.

T-Dog was in a room not far from where Andrea had been held. His hands were bloody. "I have to find Michonne," were the first words T-Dog said, addressing Daryl. Daryl looked at the other man sadly. He shook his head, unsure what exactly to say, but Alex stepped in.

"She didn't make it. I'm sorry man." A shudder went through T-Dog.

Daryl caught his eye and said the only thing he could, "She knew ya were 'ere. She was lookin' for ya." T-Dog's eyes were wet, but he tightened his mouth and nodded solemnly at Daryl.

They reached the room with Lori, Carl, and Rick. Lori was draped over Rick, using her body like a bandage against his chest wound. Rick's chest was tore clean open, a gaping hole, seeping with blood and carnage. Carl was holding onto his father's head. Andrea went to the boy, and pulled him up. Rick had a deathly pallor to his face, but he was surprisingly still alert. "Daryl… Hershel…" Rick whispered, struggled to smile. Hershel rushed to his side. Lori pulled herself up. She was shaking, silent tears streaming down her face. T-Dog enveloped her in a hug and held her. Hershel looked up from Rick to Daryl, his face was grim.

Daryl crouched down next to Hershel. "There's nothing I can do here, Daryl."

Daryl swallowed. "Ya hafta… do… somethin'."

Rick coughed. "It's okay," the words came from Rick's mouth as a low croak. Daryl looked at Rick. Black rimmed the skin beneath Rick's eyes, and he was a pasty white color. His mouth was stained with blood.

"You have to promise me. Lori, Carl… the baby… you have to take care of them. You have to make this okay for them." There was a death rattle to Rick's voice. Rick reached up with one arm and grasped Daryl's shirt. "Promise me, Daryl… Hershel… promise me."

Daryl gritted his teeth and nodded. He looked up at Lori who was now clutching Carl to her side, the woman's face hysterical with grief. "Go…," Rick said. "Take them, and go." Rick coughed, blood spurting up from his mouth, and he wheezed, lying back on the floor.

"They're coming," Alex called out from the doorway, backing into the room.

Suddenly the Governor's men were pouring into the room. "Well, well, well… what do we have here?," the Governor said from the doorway. Daryl looked with hatred at the man. Something was wrong with him though… the Governor stood in the doorway. His face was pale and he had a patch over one eye. His body was hunched over slightly and there were men on either side of him, almost as if they were there if he needed support.

* * *

><p>Carol's eyes fluttered open to the scene in the room. There were men all over the tiny room. Rick was lying motionless on the ground, his eyes open but now lifeless. Maggie and Glenn were huddled together. Hershel was standing in front of Lori and Carl, almost like he intended to shield them from whatever happened. T-Dog, Andrea, Daryl, and Alex were standing their ground. They had no weapons, but there was something about their stance that said they weren't going down without a fight. No one had approached Carol yet… she closed her eyes and tried to listen. Her ears were still ringing.<p>

She half-opened one eye. There was a man moving to stand beside her, but he wasn't focusing on her. He was holding his gun and paying attention to everyone else. Carol focused her attention on the gun. _Where's a distraction when you need one…_ A stabbing pain in her leg. She slid her hand slowly to her back… there lodged in the side of her thigh was the mirror shard. She cringed as she grasped it, slowly easing it out of her flesh.

* * *

><p>The Governor grunted, clearly in pain, and moved a bit more in the room. He wasn't walking right. Daryl noticed a dark maroon stain spreading down the man's pant leg. The Governor was wounded, bleeding, and badly. Another man entered behind the Governor, bringing Rose into the room. The baby was screeching, wriggling, but seemed untouched. Daryl's heart lifted at the sight of her. He couldn't believe it. <em>I thought ya were gone, lil' brat.<em>

The Governor looked at Alex who was standing at Daryl's side. "I'm disappointed in you, Babar. That you would turn against me." _Babar? Who da fuckin fuck is fuckin' Babar? Gov'nor's flipped his fuckin lid._ The Governor waved his hand dismissively, "but no worries, you will suffer most of all. And so will the little bitch who tried to blind me. Where is that fucking whore?"

Almost as if on cue, Carol rose from the ground. Daryl saw it out of the corner of his eye – he hadn't even known she was conscious again - her quick movement toward the man at her side, and then he was moving too… the others – T-Dog, Andrea, and Alex – following his lead. Carol jabbed first, stabbing something into the side of the man next to her. The man bellowed and leaned over in shock, and Carol was grabbing for his gun.

Daryl spun to the man closest to him; got his hands on the man's weapon and they struggled, both grappling for the weapon. Daryl could hear gunshots behind him but he didn't look. Daryl was gaining the upper hand… he brought his fist down into the man's face, and then they were splitting apart. Daryl had the gun and the other man fell defeated to the floor. He spun back around, face-to-face with a gun – point-blank – held by the Governor. The Governor started to smile sinisterly, and then the Governor's face imploded and Daryl dropped to the ground at the same time.

* * *

><p>Something inside Carol snapped. The moment she saw the Governor standing there, a gun pointed to Daryl's face. She pulled the trigger point-blank against the skull of the Governor's head. She saw Daryl hit the floor, watched the Governor's large, unseemly body crumple down with a thud. And then she was on top of the Governor, bashing the butt of her gun into his face, smashing it down repeatedly, screaming unrecognizable obscenities at the already dead man… <em>No, not a man. A monster.<em>

She was still partially deaf from the explosion earlier in the hallway, and when someone touched her arms, and tried to pull her off the Governor, she yanked herself away, spinning her head violently to see who would dare. It was Daryl. When her eyes met his, she started to fall apart. _I thought I'd never see you again._ She let Daryl pull her up and into his arms. His arms were tight around her body and all Carol could think was that she never wanted this man to let her go.

Daryl pulled back, grabbed Carol's hand in his and they moved to the door to follow the others… their group – T-Dog and Hershel helping Glenn to walk, Andrea and Maggie pulling a reluctant Lori and Carl from the room, and Alex holding on to little Rose motioning for everyone to hurry, that they had to get out of here now. Carol glanced sadly back at Rick still lying on the floor… their fallen leader. She'd never be able to thank him for everything he had done for her. For everything he had done for them all. Daryl tugged gently at her arm. Their eyes met. Daryl nodded sadly, seemed to understand what she was thinking. _The time for honoring Rick will come later. For now, it was time to get the hell out of Woodbury. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **On the positive – I'm so glad to be out of Woodbury after this! On the negative - I killed Rick. I'm sorry. :( I like Rick a lot believe it or not. He's one of my favorites on the show and you know (DUH), he's like the whole point of the comics, but for the last ten chapters or so, I kept thinking that I wanted him to die in my story. In fact, it wormed its way into my head as a song – have you ever heard the song "It's My Party" by Leslie Gore? It's a very old song. The lyrics are "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to…cry if I want to…" Well, I developed the idea of killing Rick and it manifested in my head (to the beat of that song) as "It's my story and I'll kill Rick if I want to…" Clearly I've gone mad with power. But anyway. I hope you don't hate it too much and that you hang on for what's coming up next.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N – **Here's a quick update. I'm going to be taking the weekend off to get some stuff done for my paying jobs, but I'll be working on getting a new chapter up on Monday. I thought after the last few chapters we could do with some Daryl and Carol alone time and a conversation to clear the air. Hope you like! Thank you for the reviews! Have a great weekend!

* * *

><p>Chapter 35 – Nothing to Forgive<p>

They found three vehicles right on the outskirts of Woodbury, loaded up and headed toward the prison. Not to stay. There was no way any of them could go back to that place again, not to live. They all wanted to put as much distance between them and Woodbury, and the prison. There was too much bad blood here. Too much loss.

But they had nothing with them – no weapons, no clothes, no food – so it didn't make sense to start fresh without at least seeing what they might be able to salvage from their last "home". T-Dog had suggested a recon to get what they could, and then they'd head for the coast. Put as many miles on as they could before nightfall.

They took separate vehicles. Daryl drove, and Carol sat close to him. The moment she'd climbed into the old Chevy, she'd scooted right over on the bench seat so that the side of her leg brushed against his. It was just the two of them for the first time in what felt like forever. The truck didn't have seatbelts so Andrea had offered to take Rose.

They hadn't spoken much to each other despite their proximity. Carol's hearing was just now finally coming back. And short of Daryl asking her if she was okay, and helping her tie a cloth around the wound on her leg, he hadn't said much else. Frankly, Daryl didn't know what to say.

On the one hand, the only other person to know about him and Michonne… was Michonne. And she was dead. He loved Carol. He didn't want to hurt her. And why should he? It hadn't meant nothin'. It was… well, he had no idea what it was. He had no idea why on earth he would have fucked Michonne. He hadn't even liked the broad, let alone found her attractive enough to fuck. All he could think about the whole time he was locked up was Carol. The thing with Michonne… it had been all sorts of wrong. _She was Carol, and then she wasn't. Fucked up, it was. Whole thing jus' don't make no fuckin sense. _

On the other hand, it was eating him up inside. Not telling Carol, it was killing him. How could he not tell her? He'd never been love before. He'd never met a woman who affected him this much. A woman who invaded his thoughts and tortured his body and demanded his soul. He loved Carol. He couldn't not tell her. _Shits gonna break 'er heart._

* * *

><p>Carol knew something was wrong. Daryl wouldn't look at her. She knew she'd gone a little crazy back in the basement. But something about seeing that gun pointed at Daryl… the thought that he could have died. That she could have lost him… it killed her. She loved him so much. She wanted so badly to tell him. She opened her mouth to speak…<p>

"Do you think the prison will be safe?" _Coward_.

"I don't know. Can't be no worse than where we's been though."

Carol nodded, sighed… _Why can't I just tell him? I know the words… just say them._

* * *

><p>Daryl didn't need to look at her to know that that wasn't the question she wanted to ask. The look on her face when she'd said it… it wasn't what she'd been thinking, he was sure of that. <em>Jus' tell 'er, ya fuckin' dumbshit.<em> He opened his mouth to speak…

"I love you, Daryl." He shut his mouth at her words. He opened his mouth... shut it again. _Well fuck._

He cleared his throat. "Carol…"

* * *

><p>Carol's chest hurt suddenly. He wasn't going to say it back. She felt the tears welling, but swallowed them back. <em>I was so sure he loved me. <em>

"It's alright," she said. _No, it's not._

He looked at her, "A'right?"

"Yea. It's alright. I just wanted you to know." _Liar._

Daryl braked suddenly, waved his arm out the window for Hershel to pull up next to their vehicle. "Everything okay?," Hershel hollered out the open passenger window. Maggie and Glenn were sitting in the back. Andrea sat in the front with baby Rose.

Daryl nodded,"Need a minute. Go on ahead and we's gonna be right along." Hershel furrowed his brow, but gave a cursory nod and drove off with T-Dog's vehicle following along.

Daryl put the truck in park, cut the engine, and looked at her.

"I'm sor…" she started to speak but was cut off when he kissed her – _sorry _. His tongue found its way into her mouth with an urgency she wasn't sure she recognized. His arms wrapped around her and he held on to her tightly. She kissed him back, letting her mouth mold to his, relishing the feel of being in his arms again.

* * *

><p>Daryl pulled back. His hand was quivering. <em>Ya hafta tell 'er. She's gotta know. <em>

"I l've ya. Ya has to know tha'." The words were shaky as he said them. She smiled, a million-watt smile, and his heart clenched on what he knew he had to say next.

Carol's smile dimmed, "but…"

"Back in Woodbury… in tha' shit'ole. I did somethin'. I did somethin' ya not gonna forgive."

Carol looked at him. Her face was uncertain, her brow creased, her mouth hung open slightly as she thought. Then she whispered softly, "Michonne."

Daryl looked away from her. _I don't deserve 'er. This woman. She's too good and I'm-a piece a shit._ He hung his head.

* * *

><p>Carol couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. She'd forgotten. In all that had happened… the thought of Daryl and that other woman had just escaped her. It wasn't even important. It never had been. She knew what that was. <em>But he doesn't.<em>

"Oh Daryl… no. No, no, no. That… that's not…" She touched her hand to his shoulder, put her other hand beneath his chin and tried to turn his face toward her own. He wouldn't move, he kept his head turned, his eyes averted. Carol sighed. "Daryl… I already know. I already knew. I… I saw it."

Daryl swiveled his head to look at her. Horror played across his rugged features. "Ya saw…?" His voice was incredulous.

Carol smiled kindly. "That wasn't you. I mean, it was you. But it wasn't you. That was the Governor. He has…. had drugs. He could make people see things, do things." She paused, and smiled a little brighter at him, "you… whatever you're thinking… you didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to forgive. I love you. I know that wasn't you, and I know you would never do that to me. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. Maybe I know that better than you do right now, but I promise, for as long as you'll let me, I'll spend my time showing you the kind of man you are."

* * *

><p>Daryl kept his eyes on hers as she spoke. She meant it. This woman – <em>his woman <em>– loved him. "I thought… I thought I lost ya."

Carol put her hand on his. "You can't lose me. Not that way. Never." His fingers curled up to link into hers. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, tantalizingly. She let her teeth graze against his bottom lip. Her eyes sparkled at him, and then she murmured, "Let's go catch up with the others. I'd like a place to sleep with you tonight."

"Who says yer gonn' be sleepin'?," Daryl slurred softly as he turned the engine over.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N – **Sorry for the late update. My weekend extended a little longer than I had you for the great reviews! Hope you all enjoy this short chapter. Please read and review!

**Disclaimers – **I don't own anything. Jekyll Island is a real place according to the internet, but I've never been there so anything I say about the place is entirely fictional.

* * *

><p>Chapter 36 – We Make Mistakes<p>

By nightfall they ended up at a golf course on the outskirts of Jekyll Island, Georgia. It was as good a place as any to bed down… only one entrance/exit, six foot chain-link fence on all sides, and plush green rolling fields allowing them to see at least a mile in every direction.

The building was musty and full of cobwebs, but surprisingly secure. Carol went off with Lori to see what there might be in the kitchen. Glenn and Maggie went to find rooms so Glenn could lie down. Of all of them, the young man had definitely taken the brunt of their stay with the Governor.

Daryl took a seat in the conference room with T-Dog, Hershel, Andrea, and Alex. Daryl watched as Carl stepped inside the room and sat down at the table. Daryl raised an eyebrow. Andrea cocked her head with disdain, "Carl. Go and see if your mother needs any help."

Carl stayed seated. "My mother is fine, thank you."

Daryl felt a smile creeping at his lips with the boy's tone. He could dimly remember a time when he'd have wanted to smack the young boy for not listening. _Damn woman's makin' me soft._ He forced himself to frown and watched the scene play out.

Andrea frowned, "Carl. Come on. You can't be in here."

Carl looked up at Andrea, his eyes narrowed beneath his too-big hat. The boy was pale and his gaze was shooting daggers. "I can to be in here. I'm a man now. My father is dead and I am a man now."

Hershel cleared his throat, "Now, son…"

Carl's head snapped around, "I am not your son. I'm a man now. I have to be here. For my mom. I have to take care of my mom and my baby brother or sister. So I get to be here now."

The room was so quiet. The boy's voice had cracked when he'd mentioned his mother. Daryl recognized when someone else was holding themselves together by their bootstraps. Daryl had been there before. He'd been thrust into too much responsibility at a young age.

He surveyed the room as Andrea started to argue that Carl should leave. Daryl's chair creaked as he pulled back from the table and stood up.

All eyes were on him as he spoke, "the boy stays. And tha's final. Ther's no such thing as age in this world. If ya can't take care of yerself, ya die. Simple as tha'. The fuckin geeks don't care how old or y'ung ya are. The bastards think they's in charge a shit out ther', they's don't care neither."

"We're not all equal, Daryl," Andrea spoke up.

"I didn't say we was. Ya don't like what I has to say, tough shit. I'm-a gonna say what'ver the fuck I want, like I always has. And I said, the boy stays. I didn't ask for yer fuckin opinion because I don't give a flyin' ass fuck, blondie."

Andrea opened her mouth, thought better of whatever it was she had to say, and shut it.

* * *

><p>There was food in the kitchen. Powdered eggs, and staples like canned cheese and meats, grits and oatmeal… Pop-tarts. Carol never thought she'd be happy to see Pop-tarts. And popcorn. Everything in the refrigerator was bad… there was no power. But the pantry and cabinets were well-stocked. And there was running water and a gas stove.<p>

Lori stood at the counter. She was crumbling before Carol's eyes.

"Oh Lori…," Carol said softly and moved to embrace the shaking woman. Lori pulled back. "I don't deserve for you to feel sorry for me. I don't deserve to be here. It should have been me."

Carol held herself back from touching the distraught woman. "I know it feels that way… I know it feels like it should have been you, but Rick wouldn't have wanted that. Rick loved you."

"And I cheated on him!," Lori hissed, backing away until she was standing against the wall. "I cheated on him. I lied to him. I… I loved another man. Shane. I loved Shane. I didn't want to. I told him that I didn't… but I did. I loved him. I loved them both." Tears were streaming down Lori's cheeks and she was manic, gasping for breath as she rambled, "how could I have loved them both? How is that even possible? But I did. I loved them both. I manipulated Rick… I told him Shane was dangerous… and then I blamed him, when he did what I practically told him to… I don't even know whose baby this is... oh God, I am a terrible person. I don't deserve for anyone to feel sorry for me… I deserve to be dead. It should have been me, it should have been me."

Lori had slid down the hallway and was clutching her knees to her chest, rocking slightly as she muttered, "it should have been me…" over and over.

"Oh Lori," Carol mumbled, going over to kneel on the floor next to the woman. She took Lori in her arms and held her, rocking her and stroking Lori's hair. "Lori… whatever happened, whatever you did… Rick still loved you." Carol pulled back to look Lori in the eyes, "we make mistakes. We are human. We make the wrong choice, we make stupid decisions that don't make any sense, and that we regret later. But that doesn't make us terrible. That makes us… us. You did a terrible thing, but that doesn't make you a terrible person. What you do now… what you do now is what matters. Not what you did then."


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N – **A short update. I'm hoping to get another one up tonight. My pace is a little slow at the moment, but I have some ideas for what's coming up next. Also, I promise we will find out more about Alex as we go – because who is this guy who has infiltrated our little group? Good… bad… who knows… Oh right, I'm supposed to know. I keep forgetting that. Thank you for your reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 37 – I'm With You<p>

Their first overnight at the golf club had been uneventful. They'd all been exhausted by all that had transpired in such a short time. The moment Daryl had lain down next to Carol in the room she had prepared for them, he'd put his arm around her to envelope her small body in close, and she'd snuggled up against him, and they'd fallen fast asleep.

Daryl dreamed of a time before walkers… of a time that usually would have given him nightmares, but the presence of Carol curled up against him seemed to ward off his demons and somehow his usual nightmarish movie reel of bar brawls, ass-kickings, and death dreams, became less edgy, more peaceful and he woke in the morning with a smile on his face.

Daryl woke in the bed alone. No sign of Rose or Carol. He dressed quickly and went looking. Rose was in the kitchen with Lori and Carl when he passed by. He found Carol outside, shooting arrows at a large piece of plywood that someone – _T-Dog or Blondie, pro'bly _– must have found and propped up for her against a table. He stood there for a moment, watching. She, or someone, had marked an X in the center of the wood for her to aim for. She was calculating in her aim, taking her time, readjusting herself when necessary, and then she let the arrow fly and it sailed straight to the X.

He was grateful that so much of their stuff had been untouched back at the prison. His crossbow, Carol's crossbow, several items of Rick's that Carl seemed happy to have, Andrea's gun, Hershel's medical kit, and more.

Another arrow lodged itself into the wood – _woman's gettin' good at that_– and Daryl let out a low whistle to alert her to his presence. "Reckon ya should be shootin' at movin' objects by now," he said gruffly when she turned to look at him.

"How long are we staying here?," Carol asked. She always cut right to the heart of the matter and he loved her for it.

Daryl shrugged. "Long 'nough. Group's gotta recuperate and all. Maybe git some fuckin' peace finally. Git Glenn back on his feet." Carol nodded.

"Then what?"

He sighed, rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. "Can't stay 'ere forever."

"I know." She agreed. Daryl was pleased that his woman agreed with him. He hadn't known for sure if she would or if she wouldn't, but it thrilled him, this feeling that he'd done something right by her.

"Thinkin' when we's ready, we hit the harbor. Land ain't safe no more, but water… might be able to git f'rther and faster by sea."

"A boat…," Carol murmured thoughtfully. She smiled slowly. "That's a good idea… heck, that's a great idea. What did the others think?"

Daryl made a face. He had an idea at the question she was really asking… at what was really driving this conversation. _Who's in charge now?_ With Rick gone, the group was a ship without a captain. Someone had to call the fuckin' shots, even if they listened to input from others, someone had to have final say. They were turning to Daryl. He saw it yesterday in the conference room. The moment he'd stood up for Carl in that room… he'd felt it. The power shift. They – Hershel, Andrea, T-Dog, Carl, even fuckin' Alex who hadn't said more than two words so far – cared what he had to say, and whether they agreed or not, they'd give his ideas a fair shake. "Do it make a diff'rence?"

Carol shook her head vehemently. "Absolutely not. I'm with you. I'm just curious. That's all."

* * *

><p>Carol watched the smile cross his face with her words. Her heart swelled with pride looking at him. The man had changed so much since she'd first met him. He still had his gruff demeanor, but she loved that about him. He was so much more than that initial curtness and his disdain for people. He was kind without being obvious about it. He'd done so much for her, for the entire group, and he'd done it without seeking something in return. His brusque manner was his way, but it was a façade; Daryl cared about people even though he'd never admit it.<p>

She had seen him the night before, helping Maggie make Glenn more comfortable in their room. She'd seen him offer Lori more blankets to keep the chill out in the damp building. And she could remember the way he curled his body around hers in the bed. The way he held her the whole night. The way his lips were warm on her back when he kissed her shoulder before finally falling asleep.

"Yer with me, huh?," he grumbled softly.

Carol moved toward him, slid her body into place against his. His arms automatically wrapped around her; she leaned into him, locking one thigh between his legs, and she kissed him softly on the lips, and then more fervently. "Hell yea, I'm with you," she drew back and whispered the words, and then kissed him again.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N – **I apologize for not getting this up yesterday. I had some computer trouble that prevented me from getting it finished, but here it is now. Hope you like it and I'll be working to get another chapter up tomorrow at some point. Please read and review. Thank you so much for all the kind stuff you've all had to say. I love your comments!

* * *

><p>Chapter 38 – Taught Me Well<p>

It's been two weeks at the golf course. The group has settled in well enough and there appears to be little threat at the moment, but Daryl is still planning their exit. Daryl had gone twice, once with T-Dog and once with Hershel, to the harbor to scout for usable boats. He figures a few more weeks and the group should be well-enough and stocked enough from a few supply runs to travel again.

Daryl felt her rising off the bed and rolled toward her. _Stay 'ere… stay with me, damn woman._ He reached out, snagging a bare thigh in his hands. He opened a sleepy eye and looked at her looking down at him. She grinned. "You can't tell me this is too early… you're usually up at the crack of dawn."

"Jus' wanna hold ya for a lil' bit longer... can ya blame me?," Daryl mumbled.

"I don't buy that. You just don't want me going on a run without you," Carol said knowingly. Daryl moved one hand higher up her bare thigh, caressing her skin, letting his fingers walk their way up to the spot where her soft, smooth skin met with her lacy panties.

"Don't understand why yer goin' without me anyway...," he said crustily. He slipped a finger inside her panties, and grazed the moist satiny flesh inside. Carol tried to stand firm but her eyes were glazing as he played, as he skimmed across her clit, and then slid inside her tight, waiting core.

He felt the shiver roll through her as he slid his finger in and out, swirling it gently. Her eyes were hooded, but she struggled to maintain composure. Carol crossed her arms and moaned softly before speaking again. "God, that's good… but we've been over this."

"Oh yea? Have we? Remind me again wha' we been over…," Daryl teased, increasing the speed of his finger frolicking inside of her. He could feel her clenching around his finger, feel the way her body sucked at him. He slid a second finger inside and kept the motion going. She gasped as a wave of pleasure hit her, and then her body shook, legs shaking, as she climaxed. The feel of her body squeezing tight on his fingers made his dick jerk, and Daryl smiled at the look on Carol's face.

It was like she couldn't decide between aggravation and amusement. As she released, her eyes were more closed than open, and she felt her whole body relax at the feeling. She felt his fingers pull out and move away, his movements agonizingly slow and titillating, and she opened her eyes. He was smiling at her, clearly pleased with himself. Carol pursed her lips and started to get dressed. "I'm still going. And now you've no one to blame but yourself for leaving you with a hard-on for the rest of the day," her voice was teasing as she said it.

Daryl chuckled. "Fair 'nough," he griped, rolling over and pulling himself up off the bed to stand before her… his boxers pitching a large tent before her eyes. She let her gaze travel across his muscular chest marked with scars that she could now identify with her eyes closed, and down his lean stomach to eye the bulge in his boxers. Her eyes lingered there and then moved back up to his face. His smirk was smug, and he said softly, "So sure ya goin' now, is ya?"

Carol bit down hard on her bottom lip and smiled around it. "I'm going," she said, "but you can bet your ass that I'll take care of _that_ later." She spun on her heel and moved out of the room leaving Daryl laughing behind her.

Daryl kept laughing as he pulled his pants on and moved over to the crib they'd found for Rose. "Good, yer up a'ready. I gots a full day and don't want no bellyachin' from the likes-a-ya.," he prattled. Rose squirmed and babbled at him as he picked her up. The baby was probably the cutest thing he'd ever seen, not that he was going to admit it to anyone out loud or somethin' crazy like that.

He cradled Rose in his arms as he held the bottle to her mouth. "Yer momma's crazy, ya know," he said softly, "but she l'ves ya like nothin' I ever seen." Rose blinked at him as she drank, and he figured that was as good a 'go on' as he was going to get from a two month old. "Yep… guess I does to, ya know. L'ves ya, I mean. Ya know, lil' bit? Yer damn cute. Don't let nobody never tell ya othe'wise. And if they does, ya jus' tell me and I'll bust their stupid ass open."

* * *

><p>Carol packed a bag of supplies to take on their supply run. It had taken a lot of debate to get Daryl to agree to let her go on a run without him. But she was sure she could do it; her confidence had grown with the crossbow the more moving targets she hit, and she'd proven she could use a gun well-enough in a pinch. Plus she'd gone on a couple runs since coming to Jekyll Island already – always with Daryl, of course. But Daryl had things to do here. They needed meat. The few staples they could snag on a run wasn't a good enough substitute for what Daryl could find hunting.<p>

So after a long debate in front of everyone in the conference room, and then some continued debating in the privacy of their own room – _before, during, and after a more enjoyable activity – _it had been decided that Carol would go on the run with Alex, Andrea, and Glenn; and Daryl would go off hunting after getting Rose ready to spend the day with Maggie. Lori was planning to do laundry while Hershel and Carl attempted a drive to the harbor to snag a small fishing boat and see what they could catch on the water.

They loaded up the vehicles. They'd found it easier to take two vehicles on a supply run; that way if one vehicle went down – which had already happened once – they weren't stranded. Daryl wandered outside with Rose as they were loading up. Carol saw Glenn go over and embrace Maggie in the doorway to the building as Alex and Andrea finished getting everything ready. Carol went over to kiss Rose on the forehead and Daryl on the lips. Surprisingly, the kiss was searching and full of desire. Daryl wasn't usually one for public displays of affection. When they broke apart, Daryl kept his hand steady on the back of her neck, pulling her toward him so that their foreheads touched lightly together. "Be careful," he whispered.

"I will. You taught me well," Carol said softly, and kissed him again firmly. Then she turned and hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle Alex would be driving, while Glenn slid into the other car with Andrea.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N – **I'm feeling discouraged so I'm hoping it does not show too much in this chapter.

I want to preface that I am aware that my writing in Daryl's dialect (or should I say my version of Daryl's dialect) is most likely incorrect and/or unreasonable. I am not a professional writer. I enjoy writing but I in no way claim to have any idea what I am doing. I am completely making this stuff up as I go along. I also have no idea how to write dialect and I have no idea how southern dialect should be written as I am not from the south and have never been to the south (not that I don't want to go, I just have no money – haha), but have enjoyed creating my version of Daryl and writing him the way I have. I am sure I have taken creative liberties with the character that probably detract from his realism. As I am almost 40 chapters in, I am thinking I should continue the dialect I have been using because I want to maintain the continuity within the story. I am a huge perfectionist and I feel like a sudden switch to less or virtually no dialect in the writing would look odd. Ok, probably no one else would notice or care, but I would care. My feeling is that I started the poor dialect so I might as well finish the poor dialect. But I don't want to offend people, so I'm sorry if I have or do.

If you have an opinion one way or the other about continuing or discontinuing the dialect, I would love to hear it. If it seems like everyone thinks I should just quit the dialect, I can certainly do so for readability's sake. I apologize for the tone of this author's note if it seems off as well. I don't mean to have a tone and I've re-written it several times but I just can't seem to get it right. This is what I mean by – I am discouraged. There's no Daryl in this chapter because I was hoping maybe some people could weigh in before I work on Chapter 40…

Thank you for reading!

* * *

><p>Chapter 39 – All About Alex<p>

Carol watched Daryl and Rose and the golf course fade from view as Alex took the truck around the corner onto the highway. She sighed and turned back to face the road ahead. "We'll be back tonight, you know…," Alex said while keeping his attention on the road ahead.

"Oh, I know. It's just…," she trailed off.

"You're thinking of before, aren't you?," Alex said, glancing quickly at her and meeting her eyes.

"Yea," she said, "I just can't help but think about when we were separated. I could have lost him. It's hard to be separated from him now, I guess."

"You could have let him come." His tone was jeering.

Carol laughed. "Honestly, I'd have liked that. But now is not the time to think about myself. He's in charge of this whole group now; it's not just about me. Let's change the subject, okay?"

The man next to her chuckled lightly, "oh, sure, sure. Avoidance is the key to life, isn't it? What are we changing it to then?"

Carol looked sideways at Alex. She realized that he'd been living with them all for a couple weeks and she still knew so little about him. "Let's talk about you."

"About me? What about me?"

Carol twisted in her seat so she could look at him without cricking her neck. He kept his focus on the road, gripping the wheel tightly as they led Andrea and Glenn toward the nearest town. "I don't know… I hardly know anything about you. Tell me something about yourself. How'd you end up in Woodbury? What did you do before… you know… all this? Were you married? Did you have any kids? A dog? A fancy car?"

Alex laughed loudly. "What is this, twenty questions?"

Carol furrowed her brow, "you're avoiding." Alex took his eyes off the road for a second to look at her.

"What makes you say that?"

His gaze was too intense on her own and she glanced away quickly and then looked back before responding. "Maybe because you haven't answering the question," she said pointedly.

Alex turned away. His hands were gripping the wheel tightly. He seemed uncomfortable and Carol started to feel bad for prying. She hadn't meant to pry, but it was sort of natural to be curious. _Isn't it?_

She started to speak, "Look, I'm not trying to pry…," but he cut her off.

"I had a son. His name was Devon." Carol waited. The silence after his words was palpable. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel tighter. Alex's whole body was tense. Alex took a slow, ragged breath and continued, "He was five. His mother… my wife… Elyssa… died two years ago… car accident. She had been pregnant at the time, but the baby was premature… didn't make it. That was our daughter. So then it was just me and Devon. We did okay for ourselves. I was never much of a cook so we had a lot of take out and frozen stuff. He really liked chicken nuggets." Alex paused. His shoulders were shaking and his voice was hoarser than it should have been. He was clearly struggling to hold back tears.

Carol lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder in comfort. "It's okay, Alex. You don't have to say more…," she said softly.

Alex cleared his throat loudly and shook his head. "No, no. I can. I… I want to. I already tried forgetting and that hasn't helped in the least. Can't be any more harm in remembering." He swiped at his eyes with the back of one hand.

"What happened to Devon?," Carol said quietly. She pulled her legs up underneath her so she could sit sideways on the seat more comfortably and face him.

"Devon might have been okay, you know. When the world fell apart, we were doing okay on our own. He was only five, but he was such a good listener. He was such a good boy. We could have made it. I know we would have. But we stumbled into Woodbury. I thought it was safe… I told him it was safe. Devon didn't like it. He said the place was scary. Didn't feel right. He said he wanted to leave. But I told him it was safe. I made him stay. I killed him. By doing that… I killed him."

Alex was crying now. Tears were streaming down his face. They were probably only a couple miles to go until they hit the town, and he was crying as he drove. He wouldn't look at Carol and she had no way to comfort him. _You couldn't have known._ There were no words she could possibly say that would make it better. No one could have made it better for her with Sophia. Only time had helped. _And Daryl… love certainly had a part in it. But there had to be time too._ Time can make it… maybe not better… but less raw, at least.

"Mr. Blake… the Governor… he made us feel so welcome at first. It was all food and drink and laughter, and then it wasn't. Then the men were taking Devon away from me. He tried to hide under the table. I tried to help him, but there were too many; they were kicking me, one guy had a wooden plank, and he hit me on the head with it. They pinned me to the ground. All I could do was watch as they dragged Devon out from under the table, kicking and screaming they dragged him, and he screamed for me. But I couldn't help him. The Governor told me that he screamed for days for me. I was unconscious for days. When I woke up, they chained me up and took me into the arena. I didn't know what they did there at first, but he explained it. It was for entertainment. The Governor said they had a special show just for me. I thought he meant I was going into the cage… that I was going to have to fight the walkers to stay alive. To gain our freedom. But he put Devon in the cage. I struggled. I swear I did. I fought for my boy. I tried, but I was shackled. And they shocked me with something… a taser or something… I don't know. And I had to lie there on the floor and watch. I didn't want to see. His men had to hold my eyes open. I had to watch those walkers tear apart my little boy. He was screaming. They literally ripped him apart, an arm, a leg, another arm… he was in pieces… he was alive the whole time. He screamed the whole time. Even when he was in pieces, I could still hear him. The echoes. I hear him every night. I hear him screaming. 'Daddy! Daddy! No! Daddy, help! No! Stop! Daddy! Daddy, why! Daddy!' He knew it was my fault. That I killed him. That I let him die," Alex choked out the last few words, full-on sobbing now, and turned his head to look at her.

Carol was devastated at the story he had just told her. Her heart broke for him. For what he had seen. For his poor son. For what the Governor had put him through. She couldn't imagine the horror; she couldn't imagine the pain he must feel and what it must be like when he closes his eyes each night. She opened her mouth to speak, but out of the corner of her eye something caught her attention. She turned her head rapidly to the road, and screamed out, "Look out!"

It was too late as the front of their vehicle collided with a large semi-truck being driven across the road, the vehicles smashing into one another, jarring both Alex and Carol forward, the windshield fragmenting under the force of Carol's skull.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N – **Ok, I'm starting to feel less discouraged the more I write so here's a quick (short) update. Yay! And thank you, **anon**, for what you said. I really appreciate it! And I hope the other regular reviewers agree with you. :) I love you all for reading this and reviewing! Hopefully you will all like this chapter even though there's no Daryl. Don't worry though… he's hunting, but he'll be back next chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 40 – Where Art Thou<p>

Carol could smell gasoline. That was the first thing she noticed after the crash. One moment she'd been about to tell Alex how sorry she was, and that the only person he should blame for his son's tragic death was that bastard, the Governor. That it was the Governor and the Governor alone, and not anywhere close to being Alex's fault. And the next moment, there was a semi-truck looming large in front of them and she was slamming head first into the windshield. She had heard the windshield crack on impact and then everything had gone black and quiet around her. And then the smell of gasoline invaded her nose, and she could hear someone yelling her name. She groaned. Her head was clouded; she felt like she was underwater.

She opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times to get her bearings. She was lying awkwardly. Her head on the dashboard, and she was facing Alex still. _Oh God, Alex._ He was slumped over the steering wheel, eyes open but unseeing. A piece of the steering column imbedded in his chest. Carol struggled to lift her arm and brought her hand to his neck, like she'd seen people do on TV. She couldn't feel a pulse. She wasn't sure if that was because there wasn't one, or because she wasn't 100% on where she was pressing. She knew where to check on her own neck for a pulse, she tried to mimic that on Alex, but her limbs were difficult to work with. Her head wasn't as clear as it should be.

More of the thick gasoline smell wafted in her nose. She shook her head, tried to clear it out. She tried to sit up, but the vehicle seemed to have crumpled in on itself. She only had a little room to move.

"Carol!" Someone called her name again, a woman's voice. She tried to turn her head toward the sound, but she couldn't seem to get her bearings. She couldn't seem to lift her head high enough to swivel it around. She tried to lift her face off the dashboard, got a couple of inches clearance and then she felt a pounding in her skull that made her dizzy, nauseated, and she put her head back down again.

"Andrea?," she mumbled softly. She blinked. It felt like minutes before she got her eyelids to open again. Her blinking seemed labored to her. Everything she did seemed to be difficult for her. She wondered if she was injured on her body anywhere, but she couldn't get her head to cooperate so she could look. Even her thoughts seemed choppy. _Daryl… My head… Andrea and Glenn… Where…Rose… _Then she heard what sounded like someone peeling back the top of a can, but louder. Much louder. She could feel the sunlight hitting her on the face and she squinted, tried to squint. Someone was doing something to the roof of the vehicle, pulling the top off the vehicle. She vaguely wondered what kind of tool a person would use to do that… it didn't make sense to her. The idea of pulling a roof off of a car. It felt absurd. She wondered then what about this world these days wasn't absurd.

Her vision was swimming again. She tried to turn her head again, but her body wasn't cooperating still. She felt like there must be room to turn now… now that the vehicle didn't even have a roof, but she felt weighted down. Her head must have weighed a ton and she couldn't get her muscles to listen to her.

She saw legs in her direct eyesight as someone stepped down on the seat in the space between her and Alex. The person wore jeans, but they were ratty and torn and filthy. _Andrea? Glenn? _She felt like she should know the clothes that Andrea and Glenn wore well enough to recognize them. She'd washed all the clothes the group owned enough times. But these jeans… they didn't seem familiar.

She heard the person say something as she imagined that the body kind of leaned over to look at Alex. She couldn't quite see what the person was doing, what the person was looking at, except out of the corner of her eye, and the way the shadows moved in the vehicle. She thought the person must be looking at Alex. She thought maybe the person said something about a "negro carcass." And then the person's legs moved, turned around so that she figured the person would be looking at her next. She saw the legs bend at the knees, as the person crouched down into her line of sight.

She forced her head to turn up slightly. She needed to see. She needed to know. The movement was slow but her neck seemed to be listening. Her head throbbed wildly but her line of sight moved up slightly as her head pulled off the dashboard and turned slightly. And there was Merle Dixon looking down at her, a crooked grin on his face as his lips moved with words she couldn't make out in the fuzziness of the world around her and she thought he muttered something about bitches being alive.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **I have to put another Author's Note down here because of Merle. There are only two derogatory/swear words that I truly detest and therefore do not say – one is the N word and the other is an F word but clearly not fuck because I say that plenty. I know it's Merle and being true to the character, he would say the N word. But I can't. I type it on the screen and then I become aggravated at having written it and delete it. So I'm not going to let Merle say the N word. I'm not really sure I want to use "negro" either but it's the only substitute I can think of so it'll have to do.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N – **I'm excited to finally get Merle in here and seeing where this story takes me. [I know I'm writing it, but sometimes it feels like its doing the writing and I'm just along for the ride.] Hope you enjoy. As always, thank you so much for the reviews! I especially want to thank SOA loving mom, Spikesslayer8¸ Miranthia, abovetherim, LopezG, anon, Luuh Reedus, hopelesslydevoted2svu, hockeydrmr9, Sinister Attraction, LisaBoston, and deelove1. There are many others too but if I mention you all it would take too long and you'd get tired of reading and never make it to the chapter itself. Thank you so much everyone for reading and reviewing! Please review again. :)

* * *

><p>Chapter 41 – The Unknown Factor<p>

Daryl loved the solitude of hunting. He loved the way he could meld into the surrounding forest. He just belonged there. He would always feel more comfortable surrounded by woods and air and animals waiting to be shot, than he ever would around people. Especially the people in his group. _'Xcept Carol... and prob'ly Rose too. _But the rest of them… sometimes they made him so angry he wanted to scream obscenities and storm off.

But that was the old Daryl… that was the Daryl who wasn't in charge of anyone but himself. And somehow he'd become this new, foreign Daryl. A new, foreign Daryl who was suddenly the group's leader. Suddenly a person whom everyone looked to, a person whom everyone needed an answer from. He'd never minded, and would never mind, being in charge of Carol, being looked to first by Carol. She felt like his family. She knew him, understood him… loved him. And Rose was just a little bit of a thing. He'd protect and care for Rose no matter what. But the others? He'd never expected to lead them. And somehow he had, and he did, and he does.

He thought of his own childhood as he moved fleetly through the trees, his footsteps quiet and quick. He made not a single sound, left no trace of where he'd been or where he was going. His mother had left when he was little… or at least that's what his Pa had said. It was probably just as likely that his Pa had killed his mother and buried her somewhere on their ten acre property. His Pa had been an evil son of a bitch, and he'd raised Merle up the same way. To be fair, his Pa's Pa… Daryl's grandfather… had probably raised Pa up to be an evil son of a bitch. Some kind of cycle, it probably was.

But his mother had been gone since Daryl was a tiny thing. Merle had been older… a teenager, but he'd grown up fast under Pa's hand and acted more like an adult when it came to Daryl. And Pa and Merle had done what they could. It hadn't really been all bad. Daryl grew up rough, but it made him sturdy and tough. Made him strong. Made him able to handle all the bad shit in the world. _Plenty bad shit in this world, 'at's for sure. _

So his life hadn't been all kittens and roses, but he'd survived. Merle taught him how to take care of himself, even if it took a lot of beatings to learn. Thinking of Merle still made Daryl feel uneasy. A part of him missed his older brother, and a part of him was glad that Merle was probably dead out there somewhere. Daryl couldn't imagine ever having this life with Carol if Merle had been around.

Daryl spotted a squirrel up ahead and stopped, poising himself to take the shot. The arrow whizzed through the air and hit its mark… straight through the eye. _Fuck yeah._

* * *

><p>The jostling was what woke Carol. She was lying on flat, cool metal, and her body jostled against it, causing pain to ricochet throughout her body. She moaned and stretched carefully.<p>

"Oh, thank the Lord. I thought you were dead for sure." Carol pulled herself up off the cool metal floor of what appeared to be the inside of the trailer to a semi-truck. Probably the same semi-truck that had mangled the vehicle she and Alex had been in from the looks of it. One wall was dented in massively, and boxes were strewn across the floor. It was Andrea who had spoken. The woman was seated with her back against the other, uncorrupted wall, her knees drawn up, hugging them to her chest.

"What the hell happened?," Carol breathed out. Every word was pain. Her head pounded, throbbed, ached, and shrieked in protest with each word. She felt like there was a tiny alien inside her head, using a jackhammer trying to gain its freedom. And when the jackhammer didn't work, he tried dynamite. And when the dynamite didn't work, he tried jumping up and down on a pogo stick, while holding the jackhammer, while throwing bombs at the inside of her skull.

"I don't know what Alex was doing that he didn't notice the fucking truck crossing the road, Carol, but he didn't see it or he tried to drive the two of you through it… I don't know," Andrea said running her hands through her hair.

Carol cleared her throat and glanced around, "Where's Glenn?"

"He didn't see Glenn… thought it was just me, you and Alex… so I had Glenn hide. I'm hoping he went for help. Of course who knows at this point? We had to have been miles and miles from the others."

"He?," Carol asked.

"Goddamn Merle Dixon," Andrea said emphasizing the first word.

Carol shook her head slowly, trying to shake the fogginess out… or to jostle the little alien around a bit maybe. "Alex is dead?"

Andrea nodded and bit her bottom lip. "Yea. Merle pulled you out of the vehicle just a few minutes before it exploded. I don't know if he was dead before that or not, but Alex was sure as shit dead after."

"What does he want with us? Why'd he take us?," Carol asked.

"Beats me," Andrea said as they heard the power brakes to the semi-truck squeal. They braced themselves on the floor and against the wall as their ride shuddered to a halt.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N – **A pretty short update. I wanted a little suspense before we cut to the chase with Merle. Don't worry, I'm getting there. :) Anyway, hope you don't mind a little suspense in the meantime. Please read and review. Thank you so much for all the kind reviews so far! I really appreciate them and I really love that you guys are still reading and enjoying this!

* * *

><p>Chapter 42 – Suspense and Foreboding<p>

The hatch to the trailer opened loudly, creaking on its hinges as it swung open to reveal that somehow in the time since the crash, dusk had fallen. Andrea had risen as soon as the vehicle had stopped fully, and she stood over Carol, her body between Carol and the door, as if she was standing guard. Carol pulled herself up off the tractor-trailer floor carefully, her body objecting the whole time. She couldn't just sit there though. She couldn't just sit there and wonder, wonder what Merle was going to do, where they were going, why they were going there. She used to be a person who could sit and wait, sit and wonder. But she wasn't that person anymore. She was a fighter now.

Merle stood in the open doorway and smirked. "Ain't this swell… ya bitches been waitin' on me?" His left hand was still on the hatch, and his right arm ended in a still-raw looking stump.

Andrea cocked an eyebrow next to Carol and challenged, "you've lost your damn mind, old man. Whatever this is, whatever you've done, wherever we are right now, let us go now before you regret it."

Merle laughed crudely, "ol' man? The fuck, lil' missy… I look like yer father? Well I ain't. And this **ol' man's** in charge now so ya best watch yer fuckin' tone ya know wha's good for ya." Merle snarled at Andrea's expression. "Ya think I don't 'member ya? Oh I 'member… I 'member real good how ya'll left me to die. How that fuckin' pig cuffed me like some fuckin dog and that negro fuck threw away the fuckin' key." Merle hocked a loud phlegmy cough and then spit on the ground beside him. Then he stepped back slightly and hollered, "Yo, git yer fuckin lazy bitch asses over 'ere and help me with these two. Fresh meat."

Carol rocked unsteadily on her feet and Andrea reached for her, clutched her hand. Carol took only a little comfort in the fact that at least they were in this together. _Daryl._

* * *

><p>Daryl strode into view of the main building, six squirrels and three rabbits strung on his line. It was a good draw at least. Carol could make stew later. His mouth watered at the thought. His woman was a great cook even with the slimmest of pickings to work with. He'd been fending for himself for a long time before he ever met her so he was fairly decent round a stove – and a fire – himself. But he'd rather eat her cooking than his own any day.<p>

He'd been thinking a lot lately. A lot about Carol and about what was going on with them. He wasn't big on saying 'I love you'. He'd said it that once… kind of… right before he told her about Michonne when they were leaving Woodbury. But he hadn't said it since. _Woman has to know. Don't need to be fuckin' __Kum Ba Yah__-in' bout it. _But the more he thought about it, the more he felt he needed a big gesture. The more he felt that just coasting through with her wasn't enough.

His thoughts disturbed him a little. For one, because he had no idea what a big gesture was, let alone how to pull one off. And for two, because this was practically the end of the world they lived in, and how exactly did a man show a woman he really loved her nowadays? He hadn't even ever done it in the best of conditions, let alone the worst. He didn't think a necklace of walker ears was an adequate gift for wooing a woman. _Wooin'? When the fuck this become wooin'? _

And it wasn't even like he could take her out on a date. Not that he'd ever really taken a woman out on a date before. Unless you counted buying some skank a drink at the bar before bumping uglies in the bathroom. But Daryl was fairly sure that didn't count as a date.

Carol was different. And she made him different too. She made him better. If there was ever a woman for him in the world, a woman who he could see being his wife, being the love of his life, should such a fuckin' fairy tale fantasy even exist – it was Carol. She was it. If something happened to her… if something happened to Carol, well Daryl might as well take an arrow to the head for all that he'd want to keep on keeping on without her. He'd always thought of himself as a badass. A survivalist. A devil-may-care son of a bitch. As someone who could survive anything – hell, he'd proven it pretty well since the world went to hell. But he wasn't sure that he could ever survive losing Carol. Without her… life just wouldn't seem like it was worth anything.

Daryl was interrupted by the squeal of tires coming up the road. His heart stilled in his chest as he watched the car that Glenn and Andrea had left in earlier, come peeling up the pavement and squeal to a stop at the front of the building. From the looks of it, only one person was inside the car. His legs started moving across the grass quickly, intent on getting to the front of the building, on getting to the car, on finding out what the hell had happened. The only thing going faster than his legs as he ran was his heart, racing in his chest. _Carol._


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N – **Once again I'm sorry this is so short! It felt like a good stopping place though so I'm going with it. I promise there will be more action in the next chapter, and hopefully some answers. So here's an update for you and I hope you like. Please read and review! Thank you to those of you who have reviewed! I love hearing from you and hope to hear from you again.

* * *

><p>Chapter 43 – A Calm Fury<p>

"What-ya mean ya left 'em?," Daryl snarled angrily, shoving Glenn.

Maggie stepped in between the two men. "Come on now! Now isn't the time for blame. You want to throw down and compare dick sizes or something, do it later!"

Glenn backed up, clearly just as worried as Daryl about the two women he'd left behind, and aggravated that Daryl could possibly think Glenn didn't make the right call to come back – to get help.

Daryl glowered at Maggie and Glenn. He knew the kid was right to come back. He knew that if Glenn had stayed, he might have gotten caught too and it would have been hours before anyone had even realized something on the supply run had gone amiss. But he was just so angry. He wanted to hit something… someone. He'd known Carol shouldn't have gone. He shouldn't have let her out of his sight.

He was pissed at Glenn for coming back without them, and Carol for even going off without him; but most of all he was pissed at himself. Pissed at himself for being fool enough to think everything was going to be okay, for letting his guard down and thinking that he and Carol could ride off into the sunset… or across the ocean… together.

He fumed and ran his hands through his hair. _Hafta git 'er back. Jus' hafta git 'er back. _

"Ya said a semi? A fuckin big ass truck in the middle of the fuckin road, and Alex didn't even stop?," Daryl asked.

"Didn't even brake, man. He didn't even brake," Glenn said with conviction.

"And she's alive? Yer fuckin certain?"

Glenn nodded. "Daryl… it was Merle. I only got a quick look before Andrea told me to get down, but it was him. Missing hand and everything, it was Merle."

Daryl chewed his lip nervously. He hadn't forgotten about his big brother, but a part of him had hoped that Merle hadn't made it. That somehow the universe had just finished Merle off in some way. He'd known that was too good to be true. He hadn't been wrong when he'd said… so very long ago… that the only thing that can kill Merle, was Merle himself.

Merle turning up now couldn't be good. Not for Daryl, not for Carol, and not for the group neither. If Merle was back, it meant trouble, and it meant payback, revenge, or worse.

They had to load up, and load up fast, and find Andrea and Carol before it was too late.

* * *

><p>The men Merle called over were a ragtag bunch. They were all shapes and sizes, ages and, surprisingly enough, ethnicities. The only commonality among them was that they were all men and that they all had a churlish air about them, and a glint of meanness in their eyes. These men were not strangers to pain, giving it or receiving it.<p>

She and Andrea were both dragged out of the trailer and surrounded by the men. Carol's head pounded still and her stomach rolled, but she stood her ground, careful not to make herself appear weak. One man leered at them and, motioning to Andrea, said, "Good find, Merle… that blonde's a real beaut. Bet I can make 'er feel real pretty."

_Well this is getting old already. _For some reason, fear hadn't hit Carol yet. Instead, her thoughts were snarky and filled with annoyance. It occurred to her that everywhere they turned, there was some kind of asshole who liked to make women feel **pretty** by raping and beating on them. Ed for one, then that town where poor Maggie was raped, then the governor, and now these bastards. She felt like she was trapped in a book, but in every page the same thing happened, over and over again just with different names and faces.

Another man yelled out, "put 'em with the others. We'll draw lots for who gets who first." She looked over at that one. He was taller than the others, built better maybe… something about him exuded power. This was the man in charge. He had gray hair and green eyes, and he locked them on her now, pursed his lips slightly at the eye contact and seemed to smile maliciously as if he liked what he saw.

Fear licked up her spine, but she shoved it aside; she wasn't going to look away first. She channeled Daryl, and replaced her fear with a calm fury. _Bring it on, bitch._


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N – **I totally said there'd be action in this, and then I lied. I'm sorry. I totally intended more action but then I got caught up in the small moments again. I really like the small moments though. The moments when something was discovered or when a conversation sparked something interesting. So this is another small moment's chapter. Don't worry, I know this story needs to move forward now, and I think I'm ready to take it there. Stay tuned. There won't be an update until late Sunday or Monday as I won't have a chance to write until then. And I want to do the next chapter justice so it might take me longer. Please stay tuned! I really appreciate your reading and reviewing!

* * *

><p>Chapter 44 – A Haunting Voice<p>

Carol and Andrea were shoved into a cage-like contraption on wheels, like something a circus animal might be kept in. There were two women inside already, both curled up together and fast asleep on the floor. Merle smirked at Carol and Andrea from the other side of the bars as the other men dispersed out of sight.

"Your brother's gonna fucking kill you," Andrea hissed at Merle when he turned to walk away.

He spun back wildly and chuckled, "oh yea?, 'at'll be the day."

"I mean it. You stupid dumbass. He's not gonna give a shit what you do to me, but…." Carol caught Andrea's eye with a grimace and Andrea trailed off.

Merle furrowed his brows and looked between the two women. "What 'xactly am I missin' 'ere?"

Carol looked pointedly at Andrea. _Don't, Andrea, don't say it. _

Andrea looked contrite as she softly said, "this here's your brother's woman."

Merle looked at Carol directly and raised an eyebrow. "Ya shittin' me. This one? Fuckin' mousy twat. Not 'er. Can't be. Nah… yer married, had a brat too. Can't pull no wool over my eyes."

Carol snorted. "Jesus Christ, Merle. Are you kidding? Really?" A look of disbelief, frustration, and anger crossed her face. "I've got a pounding headache. I was in a fucking car crash. And now I'm in a goddamn cage. Are you freaking kidding me?"

Andrea looked at Carol in shock, but Carol continued, "She tells you I'm with your brother and all you can say is I'm married? And I have a kid? Pull your head out of your ass, Merle. You've been gone almost five months. A lot, and I do mean a lot, has changed. It doesn't matter what Daryl does to you when he gets here – and he will get here, don't you worry. But it doesn't matter what, because I'm going to do a hell of a lot worse to you myself, just as soon as I get the chance."

Merle stepped back instinctively at her tone, his face going ashen as she berated him. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again, and finally closed it before hastening to move away from them.

* * *

><p>After a vigorous debate, they decided that Lori would stay behind with Carl and Rose. The others – Daryl, Hershel, Glenn, T-Dog, and Maggie – would all go find Andrea and Carol. <em>And Merle.<em> Daryl grimaced at the thought. That part of it wasn't a reunion he was looking forward to.

Hershel hadn't wanted Maggie to go, and Daryl had thought that someone should stay with Lori and the kids. It didn't seem right to leave the woman alone, she was noticeably pregnant now, and considerably slower moving than usual. Plus, she was still on edge and grieving; but T-Dog had argued that they needed all the manpower to deal with Merle and whoever else he might have with him. Lori had been fine with it. In fact, she'd insisted.

"It's safe enough here. We're secluded. I'll lock up, stay inside… and if something does happen, I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it," Lori had said with a slight smile. Just in case, Daryl left a gun with Carl as well. The boy might be young, but he'd been practicing and he was looking better with a weapon with each passing day.

Daryl had let Maggie handle her father on her own. But in the end, the old man had relented and they loaded up in the larger of the two remaining cars. Daryl led the way on the motorcycle, while the others rode in the car with T-Dog driving. It felt a little poetic to him… riding up to see Merle on Merle's bike. They left a vehicle behind for Lori – just in case.

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?," Andrea asked Carol, her eyes searching Carol's face earnestly.<p>

"Probably about as good as I look," Carol laughed. She touched a hand to her forehead where she had been bleeding before. The wound was scabbing and there was no fresh blood when she pulled her hand back to look at it. Her head was reeling less also and while her stomach flip-flopped a bit, the adrenaline from her anger was a welcome distraction.

A stirring in the corner of the cage grabbed their attention. The two strangers in the corner were awake and rising off the floor to stand. They were filthy, their clothes torn; their hair matted and pulled out in places; and their faces bruised and broken open in spots. One had an obvious infection in a wound above her eye, yellow pus leaking out of the open flesh.

The women looked at Carol and Andrea with caution and fear in their eyes. Their feet were bare on the wooden floor, and one stepped carefully forward before wincing as a splinter slid into the heel of one of her dirty feet.

Carol spoke softly, trying to keep her voice calm and kind, "I'm Carol, and this is Andrea."

One of the women – the one with the infected wound on her face – looked at the other, a look of confusion on her face. Looking at them, Carol realized that the one with the infection, was probably only about seventeen. The other one might have been older, but it was hard to gauge.

The older woman spoke, her voice timid and meek, "I'm Laura. This is Astrid. She's from Sweden so English isn't her first language…," she trailed off a moment and then continued, "She would have understood what you said before… before…" Tears filled the woman's eyes.

"It's okay," Andrea said, trying to reassure the woman.

Laura shook her head violently, the mats of her hair whipping about. "It's not. It's not okay. She would have understood. She was… my student… an exchange student here for the semester… her English was good, but then…," Laura motioned vigorously at their surroundings.

"She's regressed," Carol offered, and Laura looked at her searchingly. Laura nodded. Carol continued softly, "it's normal. When our bodies go through… things… things our minds don't want to process… we go back to a time when we feel safe again. Astrid probably feels safer not understanding what is happening, safer hiding in her own language." Carol glanced into Astrid's scared eyes and she could see Sophia in them. This girl was just that… a girl… too young for everything she'd seen and everything she'd experienced.

"How long have you been here?," Andrea asked addressing Laura. Laura shook her head. Andrea frowned, "how many nights?"

"Too many," Laura whispered, her voice was haunting.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N – **Sorry for the late update. I should have the next chapter finished by later on tonight and I'll get it posted. Thank you for reading and for reviewing!

* * *

><p>Chapter 45 – The Winner Is<p>

Dusk had fallen and from the sounds of it, the men had begun to stir and get ready for something. Their loud, angry voices carried in the wind. Carol rose off the wood floor to stand at the bars. She craned her neck to see what was happening, but most of it – whatever it was – was happening out of sight.

"The lottery," Laura said approaching and gripping the bars next to Carol.

Carol looked at Laura with a perplexed look.

Laura continued, "they… draw lots for us… and whoever wins, wins a…," she trailed off before smiling softly saying, "a date, we can say…usually two or more of them for each one of us, then the winners compete… fist fight I think… to see who goes first with their…lady."

"Two or more… for each one of us…," Carol repeated before trailing off.

Laura looked away, staring out between the bars at the dirt below, and nodded. "There are fifteen of them total I think… only a couple of them don't participate, they just watch." Laura put a hand on Carol's back before turning away and said one last thing, her voice cold and chilling, "But there's two more of us now… so that's good. More of us means less of them per person….I taught math you know, I was a good teacher. There's continuity in numbers that just doesn't exist in life."

As the other woman retreated back to Astrid and Andrea, Carol wondered how broken a person had to be to find anything 'good' in all this. And especially in the fact that more victims meant less perpetrators per victim. Carol's back stiffened as she saw Merle and some other men approach.

* * *

><p>Finding the crash site was fairly easy for Daryl and the others. Even better was that the semi-truck that Merle drove off in must have busted a gas line from the crash and had leaked a trail to follow up the road. Daryl gripped the handlebars on the bike until his knuckles were white. A part of him wished he could just smash down on the gas and take off down the road toward Carol, leaving the others in a cloud of dust behind him. The only thing that mattered was getting to her, and getting to her fast.<p>

Daryl had never been so nervous in his life. His palms were sweaty and his heart was racing. The thought of what could be happening to Carol numbed him to any other feeling but concern, fear, and a desperate need to find her.

T-Dog flagged him down to hold up a minute and Daryl waited on the side of the road while the others did whatever it was they had to do in the woods. Hershel came up to the side of the bike.

"We'll get there, son." Daryl looked up at the older man.

"Not fast 'nough… what the fuckin' hell is takin' so long…," Daryl grumbled, glancing back into the woods where T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie had disappeared into a few minutes ago.

* * *

><p>Merle had been the one to grab Carol first. She had seen another man knock down Andrea hard after the woman resisted, and two others took hold of Laura and Astrid who both just seemed compliant about the whole thing. And then everything was dark as someone pushed a hood of some sort over Carol's face and her hands were tied together.<p>

Someone – Merle she figured, from the staggering stride and one handed clutch on her shirt – pushed Carol forward. He had her by the collar of her shirt and he was mumbling something to himself. He leaned in close to her suddenly and she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck when he mumbled softly, "he asked for ya hisself, he never does that. He never does."

Carol kept her head forward; her eyes trained on the dark cloth covering her face, and murmured quietly, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"Jake. Fuckin' mister big shot boss man. Like's-ta think he's in charge an' shit. I let him, but if I had my other hand… 'ell it'd be a diff'rent fuckin story. Man's a fuckin' creeper, 'ardly ever takes a turn with this shit. Jus' a pair-a eyes watchin' the real men git them rocks off. And then yer 'ere and he's all that one's his and shit."

Carol contemplated what this could possibly mean. _Jake?_ She assumed that was the bigger man she had seen. The one she had locked eyes with and had refused to look away first from. She had been right… he was the man in charge. "What exactly does that mean, Merle? Or are we just having this conversation for shits and giggles?," she hissed. Merle jabbed her in the back with what she could only assume was his stump. She stumbled forward, almost fell before he grasped her collar again and righted her.

"I only seen 'im take one girl before. Fucked tha' shit up. Men had to bury 'er in the woods after… in fuckin' chunks."

A chill licked down Carol's spine. _Great. Just great._ Suddenly she realized they had stopped walking. She could hear trees rustling in front of her and figured they must be by the edge of the woods.

Merle whispered in her ear, "For Daryl… I'm only doin' this for 'im. Yer gonna head straight and keep walkin'. When yer feet hit water, ya'll hafta find some way of gettin' the hood off… it's a straight shot to the road from there."

Carol was confused. "What? You're letting me go?"

"For Daryl. I ain't done a lot right by the boy, and it's prob'ly the least I can do. But ya go, and ya don't come back. I gonna tell 'em ya got the jump on me… so ya best get movin' and fast. They's gonna look for ya, ya can bet."

"What about Andrea… the others?"

"Fuck 'em. This-a save yerself thing. One time offer. Take it 'r leave it." His hand was on her shoulder.

Carol considered her options for a moment. She could go. She could run off into the woods, get the hood off somehow, and figure out a way out of here. But she'd be leaving Andrea, Laura, and Astrid behind with these people. Andrea was her friend. She couldn't leave Andrea to these monsters. And granted she'd only just met Laura and Astrid, but how could she leave them behind? That wasn't who she wanted to be. This was all or nothing.

"How far to the water?," she asked as an idea formed in her head.

She felt Merle's grip on her shoulder tighten. "Nah fuckin way," he snapped. "I doin' this to save yer ass. Ya don't come back 'ere. Ya'll never find 'em anyway… 'em other bitches, ya won't find 'em. Ya wanna be stupid, ya jus' tell me an' ya can stay. But if ya's goin', yer fuckin' leavin'. Got it?"

Carol shook her head. "I can't, Merle. I just can't."

"Sonovabitch," Merle breathed. "Fuckin' have it yer way then." He grabbed her by the collar cruelly and pulled her off in another direction. He was moving fast now and she had to trip over herself trying to keep up. Then he yanked her to a stop, pulled the hood off her head, and looked at her. His face was screwed up harshly and he glared, but there was something in his eyes that didn't quite compute. _Pity? No, empathy. He feels badly about this…_

Carol tried to smile. It was silly, really. Smiling at the man who was delivering you to the worst kind of hell you can imagine. But something about their conversation at the edge of the woods had made her think differently about Merle Dixon, and she almost felt bad that he felt bad. A part of her wanted him to feel okay about this, wanted him to feel better. It was a ridiculous thing to want, but suddenly, looking at him looking at her, she was finding it very hard to hate him.

He nodded then at her, turned her to face the tent that sat before them. Then she felt him slide something hard down the back of her pants, but before she could say anything, he shoved her forward and she half fell, half stepped inside the tent.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N – **I'm so happy to have finished this chapter and to have been able to post two updates in one day. I hope I did this justice and I really hope you like it! Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Chapter 46 – Hard Fought Hello<p>

Carol hit the ground hard inside the tent. Pain ricocheted through her body again and she was reminded that it hadn't yet been twenty-four hours since the car crash that killed Alex. Although Merle had removed the hood covering her face, he'd left her hands tied behind her back, which worked out well as she maneuvered to find out what he had slid into her pants.

"Took long enough for you to get here," a deep voice rumbled and she glanced up at him as she wiggled her hands behind her back as discretely as possible. Jake was a tall, well-built man with what could only be described as a murderous glint in his eye. He smiled smugly at her from his seat on a cot a few feet away from where she'd landed.

Carol said nothing. Her hands hit upon what Merle had given her… a knife. She pulled it out carefully and twisted it up so that she could saw through the bindings on her wrists. She could feel her lips curling up in a smile that felt something like triumph, but forced herself to choke it down… and instead she let her eyes stop on Jake's eyes and she glared.

"Cat got your tongue? Old Merle didn't hurt you, did he? I gave express instructions that you weren't to be touched. At least not by anyone but me." Jake patted the side of the cot next to him, "Have a seat. Let me get a good look at you."

She felt the binding snap beneath the blade and fall into her open, waiting palm. She rose, careful to maintain the appearance that nothing had changed… that she was still safely bound and weapon free.

* * *

><p>Once they'd spotted the semi-truck and seen the camp from a distance, it wasn't that hard to double back, leave the vehicles where they wouldn't be seen, and then hike in through the woods. Daryl took the lead with the others close behind. He didn't realize his hands were clenched until Hershel put a hand on his shoulder and Daryl forced his fists open, his joints aching with the release.<p>

There were a few tents that dotted the open land where his brother's camp was. From the looks of it, more than a dozen men were there.

"Isn't that Andrea?," Glenn whispered and Daryl looked where the younger man was pointing. Andrea was being half-dragged and half-carried over to a tent by two homely looking men.

Daryl raised his crossbow, shot the man closest in the head so that he fell, Andrea's semi-conscious body sagging as the second man lost his grip and realized something was amiss. But before the second man could do anything, before he had time to shout or even glance around, Daryl had reloaded and shot him in the head as well. T-Dog hurried out of the woods and over to Andrea where she had fallen, grabbing her swiftly over his shoulder and carrying her back to the woods and over to the others.

* * *

><p>Carol let the knife slip smoothly between her fingers until she was grasping the handle tightly. Jake widened his eyes at her as she started to move towards him, a clear expression of hurry it up, and then he patted the cot again.<p>

She took another step forward, she was about a foot away from him, and he seemed to see something in dim shadow behind her… something that alerted him.

"What the fu…," he started to say, going to rise up from the cot, and she lunged before he could rise, so that her body was looming over his. Her hand with the knife rose up quickly and then slammed down into the part of his body where his neck met his shoulder. The blade slipping into his flesh smoothly, and then pulling out with a sucking sound before she slammed it down again.

He struggled to push her away, to get up, but he was weak from the surprise of it all. His arms flailed a bit and he shoved her slightly, but instead of losing her balance, it seemed to strengthen her resolve. She brought the knife down again rapidly, and using all of her force, she jammed it into his skull. His eyes seemed to flutter for a moment, and then they went wide and dull… open but unseeing.

She backed away, wide eyed at what she had just done… the knife was still lodged in Jake's head. She backed until she bumped into the wall of the tent, and then she started to blubber, her whole body shaking as the tears streamed, choking as she cried, and she slid down the wall of the tent until she was sitting. She pulled her legs up into her chest and hugged them, letting the tears flow as her whole body wracked with sobs.

And then the screaming started outside and she was pulled out of her hysterics and back into reality.

* * *

><p>Daryl watched impatiently as T-Dog shook Andrea in an effort to wake her. She groggily moaned something but then slipped back out of it again.<p>

"It's no use," T-Dog muttered.

"She just needs time, Theodore. She'll come out of it on her own," Hershel said.

_J'sus Chr'st. Don't have time for this shit. _"Move," Daryl snapped pushing Hershel and T-Dog out of the way so that he loomed over Andrea. He heard the others gasp as he slapped the blonde woman, but he didn't care. He slapped her again before T-Dog had grabbed him, yanking Daryl back up and off. But it had worked, Andrea's eyes were fluttering open.

"Carol? What?," Andrea mumbled out, "what's going on?" She blinked rapidly, looking at each one of them. "Where's Carol?"

"Fuckin good question," Daryl muttered as he pushed himself up off the ground and headed into the camp to find Carol. Glenn and Maggie fell into stride next to Daryl with the others falling behind.

They stepped behind a corner to hear muffled sobs from the inside of a tent and Daryl felt his throat constrict. He moved to the side of the tent, put his fingers to his lips to shush the others. Glenn moved around to the other side and reached for the door flap, slowly, he grabbed the end, and, in one quick motion, pulled the door to the tent open revealing the inside.

The girl inside the tent was just that – a girl, badly beaten and weeping. She screamed at the intrusion into the tent, and the men that were violating her tripped over each other pulling themselves up, scrambling for their clothes and their discarded weapons. The girl kept screaming as T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl subdued the men – four of them.

Daryl felt relief that it wasn't Carol but rage that anyone could do this at the same time. His stomach roiled as he pounded his fists into one of the men. It was Hershel's hand on his arm that brought Daryl back to reality, and the older man's soft voice, "Son…" Daryl looked up in surprise at Hershel.

And then Daryl was up and moving back outside, all thoughts of stealth lost as he ran blindly further into the camp, yelling out, "Carol!" It didn't matter who heard, who came, he had to find her.

* * *

><p>Carol was on her feet at the screams, jarred back into where she was and what she had done. She cast a glance at the dead man laying half on the cot and half off. Once again she had become a murderer. The necessity of it didn't negate the sickness in her gut at the thought. She had done what she had to do, but she couldn't find pride in it.<p>

Her head had begun to pound again, and her vision was dotted with floating spots of light. She used one hand to brace against Jake's head as she jerked the knife free. She had already turned to the exit when she heard it.

"Carol!"

"Daryl…," she whispered it at first, suddenly not sure if she had imagined his calling her name. And then she heard it again and she was bursting out of the tent, calling out to him, "Daryl!"

And then he was there, rushing forward to her, their arms entangling around each other, falling onto the ground together. She was weeping again, but this time with relief, with joy. His arms gripped around her tightly, and she could hear him in her ear, whispering "I l've ya, Carol… Gawd, I l've ya woman."

The world seemed to still around them, giving them this moment, this moment of bliss in their reunion… before chaos abruptly erupted around them and well-armed men from the camp were storming in from all sides to surround them.


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N – **Just one thing to remember as you read this chapter… we know that Merle tried to save Carol and Carol knows it too. But Daryl doesn't. So go easy on him. Hope you like. I'm calling this chapter "And the Hits" so that I can call the next chapter "Keep on Coming". :) Hope you like and please read and review. I love the reviews I received for the last chapters and I always look forward to hearing from you guys. You all make writing worthwhile!

* * *

><p>Chapter 47 – And the Hits<p>

Daryl heard the men coming, and he saw Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, Hershel, and Andrea take a stance around him. He saw the knife in Carol hand as she rose up off the ground, and he kept his grip steady on the crossbow.

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you people?," a voice yelled.

Daryl locked eyes with the man who had yelled. He was a smaller man, but size didn't always matter in a fight. Daryl growled, "we're 'ere to take back our own."

And then another man swung at T-Dog, and a fight ensued between the two, and another group swarmed at Hershel and Andrea. One man reached for Maggie and Daryl saw her shoot him pointblank in the face. He lifted his crossbow and put an arrow through one assailant in the face before the other man could shoot Glenn. Glenn glanced at Daryl with a nod and the fight continued. The air was lit with gunfire around him, as his group fought against the others. Daryl took down another man with his last arrow, and yanked his gun free from his pants. He saw Carol kick out at a man beside him, slashing with her knife as the man pursued her, and Daryl blew a hole straight in the man's head.

It was then that he saw Merle rounding the corner, moving quickly in their direction. Daryl rushed at him, tackling his brother to the ground, before Carol was there, pulling him back.

Without thinking, Daryl pushed through her, shoving her aside, and pointed the gun at his brother. "All this, all this is yer fault!," he hollered.

Merle lay on the ground in front of Daryl, a mixture of emotions on his face, but Daryl didn't care to decipher what his brother might be thinking… might be feeling.

"Daryl, stop it!," Carol yelled. "Listen to me!"

Daryl knew she was yelling at him, but he kept his focus on his brother; Daryl stared down the barrel of the gun, his eyes fierce and glaring at his brother. "Is yer fault, ya fuckin sonovabitch. Who the fuck ya think ya are?," Daryl growled, and felt his index finger tighten on the trigger.

* * *

><p>Carol glanced between the two men… Merle, who without a doubt had saved her life with that knife, and Daryl, the only man she would ever love. "Stop it, Daryl!," she screamed, but it was like he couldn't hear her. It was like she was on the outside of it all, looking in at a scene play out in front of her.<p>

She saw the look on Daryl's face, pure rage at his brother, a lifetime of being beaten down bubbling to the surface. And she saw the look on Merle's face… a mix of regret, sadness and acceptance. She realized that Merle wasn't going to say anything; Merle would let his brother shoot him, he would take that bullet and die if it meant that Daryl could vent his rage, that Daryl could feel peace. And she knew at the same time that if Daryl shot his brother in cold blood, right now, without knowing the full story, there would be no peace. Ever.

She saw the fighting in the background begin to stop. She glanced at Glenn putting his arm around an injured Hershel to help him. She saw Maggie touch T-Dog's bloody arm gingerly as she inspected it. And she saw Andrea, pulling Astrid up from the ground, embracing the frightened girl. Vaguely, she wondered what had happened to Laura before training her eyes back on the two men before her. Daryl's intent rage, his hand gripping the gun; Merle accepting whatever fate might bring.

And Carol stepped in front of the gun.

* * *

><p>Daryl kept his eyes trained on Merle, his finger tightening on the trigger. His arm was taut with the strain and he felt the anger swirl up inside of him. And then Carol was standing there in front of him, her body shielding Merle who was still lying flat on his back, not even trying to move away. Carol's hand extended in a gesture of halt, her palm hovering just in front of the barrel of the gun.<p>

And he released the tension on the trigger.

"Fuck ya doin'," he growled at her.

"You need to listen to me, Daryl. Merle brought us here… yes, I know he did. A part of this was his fault, but not all of it. And he saved me."

Daryl shook his head slowly, "Don't know what yer sayin'… fuckin' piece a shit tried to kill ya… brung ya 'ere. Yer head's not thinkin' right."

Irritation flashed through Carol. "Dammit, Daryl Dixon. Stop being such a hard ass!," she snapped. Daryl could see the others had gathered around them now, the fighting with Merle's group had officially ended, and only their people – Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, Andrea and T-Dog – were left standing from the chaos. Andrea had her arm around the same screaming girl from before, now merely weeping, and Andrea seemed to be whispering to the young girl, comforting her.

Daryl ignored the others, ignored Hershel's insistent tone that he put the gun down, and kept his focus on Carol, and peripherally on Merle behind her. Merle stayed put on the ground, watching it all play out.

Carol tried not to stomp her feet like a child in frustration. "Dammit," she repeated. "Where the hell do you think I got this knife? From your brother, goddammit. Now isn't the time to stop trusting me, Daryl. Now is the time **to** trust me. If you love me, you'd trust me on this. Now put down the fucking gun."

Daryl licked his chapped lips, felt the tension leave him as she spoke. And he lowered his arm slowly, his eyes trained on hers.

* * *

><p>Carol nodded, her eyes intent on his, a small smile playing across her features. Relief flooded into her and she breathed out a sigh as Daryl's arm fell completely to his side. She rushed to him, hugging him. Her arms gripping his hard back with such force as his own arms encircled her, pulling her flush against him. "Thank you, Daryl. I love you," she sighed burying her head into his neck. She could feel the pressure leave him at her words.<p>

And then Astrid screamed again, and walkers – lured by the gunshots – were everywhere… streaming out of the woods in a horde.

Carol glanced at the others and back at Merle and watched in horror as Daryl's brother rose up off the ground, struggling easily against two walkers, putting them both down fast, only to be bitten savagely in the shoulder by a third walker materializing from behind.


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N – So I originally meant for more to happen in this chapter, but then I got so caught up in Merle and Daryl's last scene together that I just kept going with it. Thank you for reviewing! I feel like a broken record by saying that all the time, but I really do appreciate your reviews and comments so much that words can't even emphasize it enough. You're all awesome! **

* * *

><p>Chapter 48 – Keep on Coming<p>

Carol ducked as a walker advanced on her and Daryl took it down. And then she moved swiftly to reach Merle, and using the same knife the man had given her only a short time ago, she took down the walker that had bit him. She could hear the action around them, as Daryl and the others cleared the area, but she sank down on her knees helplessly to kneel next to Merle.

"Well fuck," Daryl's brother said looking up at her. He had turned pale already. A ghastly chunk was missing from his shoulder, blood seeping steadily out onto the dirt. Merle licked his lips, struggled to rise up to a seated position, but seemed to think better of it and just let himself lie there on the ground, his head lifted up off the ground at an awkward angle. He touched her leg gently with his one good hand and rested it there.

Carol smiled at him sadly. "Oh, Merle. I'm so…" Merle put his hand up to cut her off.

"Nah nah, don't be doin' tha' now, ain't no fuckin' puss here..." he grumbled at her, but he took the bite out of his words with a small, rueful smile.

It was then Carol noticed that Daryl had approached, that he was standing a foot away from her, shifting his stance uncomfortably. She glanced up at him, tried to hide the shine in her eyes and quell the lump in the back of her throat.

* * *

><p>Daryl looked down at Carol, saw the tears building, and he smiled a slight half-smile. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay. But it wasn't, and it wouldn't. At least not right now. Instead, he crouched down next to her, put a hand on her shoulder gently, nodded slightly and then looked to Merle.<p>

Merle grinned a toothy, red-stained smile at Daryl and said, "ain't this a bitch, lil' bro…"

And despite himself, Daryl laughed. In his mind, Daryl flashed back to a time years ago. A time when things still had been relatively calm in his household, when he'd been just a boy – eight maybe – and Merle had been home briefly in between stints in juvie.

_Daryl had fallen out of the treehouse in the backyard. He'd been flat on his back, wind knocked clean out of him. Then suddenly his brother had loomed large over him. "The fuck ya doin' on yer back there dumbass?" _

_And Daryl had grinned wildly at his older brother. It had been months since they'd seen each other and Daryl hadn't even realized that Merle would be home that day. Merle had just shook his head and motioned for Daryl to come along…_

"_Git yer ass up, shit-fer-brains, let's go huntin'. Ain't got all day." And Daryl had jumped up quick as can be, grabbed his bow, and run after his brother into the woods. They'd caught two deer that day, and Merle had let Daryl take the second one down all on his own. Daryl's first kill bigger than a rabbit that had been just his. Merle didn't even make him share the credit when they got it home. _

Merle's voice jogged Daryl back, "yer thinkin' bout that damn deer, ain't ya? Can tell by that fool-ass look on yer face, boy." Merle's voice was hoarse, and he sputtered a little at the end there, spraying up a fine mist of red.

Daryl felt Carol take the hand closest to her, lacing her fingers into his. Merle's good hand was still resting on Carol's leg, and Daryl placed his other hand on top of it. His brother's skin was feverish.

Carol was looking at Daryl intently, and he avoided her gaze, feeling his own cheeks grow hot as he blushed slightly at the mention of the deer.

"What the fuck ya talkin' bout? Don't know what deer ya mean, dumbass," Daryl stammered quietly.

Merle chuckled slightly. "Ya was a good kid, ya know. Fuckin' cain't lie for shit." Daryl's brother looked to Carol then, "take care of 'im, will ya? Fuckin' boy needs a woman like ya. Keep 'im on his toes and shit, ya will. 'Kay?"

Carol smiled graciously, "of course, Merle. You know I will."

Daryl felt his throat swelling up; it was becoming harder to swallow. He refused to cry. He refused to let the tears reach his eyes, and he blinked, breathed deeply in an effort to stem his emotions. This wasn't the time to turn into a child, or worse, a woman. Daryl had been raised to be tough, and he would be tough. He'd do Merle proud. Carol's grip on his hand tightened, and she seemed to give him strength.

"Well lil' bro, ya lil' shit… I had a good run of it, I reckon.," Merle said softly, his focus back on Daryl. "Don't go bein' a pussy now, ya hear?"

Daryl automatically smiled. It was so Merle to say that, dying from a walker bite and bitching about his brother turning into a pussy.

"Dixon's ain't no pussies," Daryl and Merle said simultaneously, their voices perfectly in unison. Merle's eyes were pleading, and the pain was evident now on his face. Daryl nodded at Merle… he knew what his brother wanted, but he hesitated.

"Come on now," Merle insisted. "Ya was gonna do it jus' a lil' bit ago… might as well, get it done now 'lready." Merle coughed once, a wet sputtering sound in his chest, and then said, "Ya gotta, Daryl. Ya gotta jus' fuckin do it. I can't turn into one of 'em, one of 'em fuckin'… fuckin' geeks. I done a lotta bad shit, kid, and I gotta a'least do this one thing right. So fuckin do it."

Daryl bent low over his brother, putting his own forehead against Merle's. His skin was cool in contrast to the fever burning inside Merle. Merle took his hand off Carol's leg and grasped it tight to the back of his Daryl's head; Daryl mimicked the same with his free hand on the back of Merle's head and they locked eyes. It was a silent goodbye. And then they released each other and Daryl sat back on his heels. He glanced at Carol, whose free hand held Daryl's gun, offering it to him. And then he took the gun, and shot his brother point-blank in the head.

The gunshot echoed, and then everything was still and silent. No one moved. And then Daryl, despite his best efforts to stop himself, to maintain his composure no matter what, fell forward across his older brother's now permanently fallen body and started to sob.


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N – **This chapter was not what I originally intended but somehow it ended up being exactly what I needed. Hope you all enjoy! Please read and review. I want to personally thank **SOA Loving Mom**, **abovetherim**, **deelove1**, **Spikesslayer8**, **LopezG**, **anon**, **hopelesslydevoted2svu**, **ZombieLoverWithWings**,and **TrixPandawan**, and send out a general thank you to everyone who has read my stories!

* * *

><p>Chapter 49 – Needing and Wanting<p>

It was rapidly getting very dark outside, and they didn't feel comfortable heading back to Jekyll Island in the pitch black night. Their best option was to search the tents where they were, make sure it was reasonably safe and camp the night there. It was Carol who went to the others to discuss it, while Daryl stayed where he was at Merle's side. His sobbing had relented, and now he just kneeled there, his head down, staring at his hands.

It hurt her to see him like that. Her chest physically ached. She had tried to get him to look at her, but he hadn't. She wanted to be there, to help him, but she knew it needed to be in his time. If he wasn't ready to talk, to be held, to be loved, then she'd have to wait patiently until he was. She put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and then stood to gather with the others.

Andrea was against staying right off the bat. "I don't like it," Andrea said, one arm draped over Astrid's shoulders, rubbing the girl's bare upper arm. "It's not safe. There could be more of them, and we wouldn't know until it was too late."

Carol shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but T-Dog interrupted her. "Andrea, babe… we don't have any supplies. There's no good option here, there is only one option. Good or not, we got no choice," T-Dog said authoritatively.

"Besides," Glenn spoke up, "that was a shitload of walkers passed through here, chances are anything living besides us, is probably dead now."

Astrid choked then, her tears starting fresh, and she looked up bleary-eyed at Carol. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She tried again, and mouthed a word that Carol understood. _Laura. _

"There was another woman… I've got to check the tents," Carol said her eyes locking with Andrea's for a moment.

"Let's all do that," Hershel said.

It was Maggie and Glenn who found Laura. She'd been dead before the walkers came through. Probably from the moment everything started going down in the camp. One of Jake's men had put a bullet in her head. Carol stood over her, gazing down at the woman's dirty, pale face, and her frail body lying there. Strangely enough, the dead woman looked peaceful.

"All clear," T-Dog said, stepping into the tent with Carol and the dead woman.

Carol nodded. "Will you help me move her?" T-Dog moved to grab the dead woman by the shoulders and Carol grabbed her legs.

It was probably silly to do it that way. T-Dog could have lifted Laura all on his own and carried her anywhere Carol asked, but Carol wanted to help, she needed to do something, and she had known this woman. And in a strange way, Carol had once been like this woman. Helpless and alone in this world surrounded by strangers with just Sophia, after Ed had been bitten. She'd been lucky though. She'd had Rick and Lori, and all the others. And Daryl… Daryl, most of all. He had saved her in every way possible; he saved her constantly from this world with all its horrors, and saved her from herself at the same time.

As they placed the body down in the woods, with one last glance at Laura, Carol looked up to see Astrid huddled on the ground. Astrid was alone now. Considering that Laura had been like Carol, then that meant Astrid was like Sophia… in a parallel way, the roles had been reversed. In Carol's story, Sophia had died and Carol was alone. In Astrid's, Laura had died and now Astrid was alone. _We'll have to take care of her. Take her with us. Keep her safe… as long as we can. _

Carol moved toward the others. "No one goes anywhere alone," she said. "Pair up, and find a place to sleep, and in the morning we'll head back." She watched as Hershel nodded at Glenn to give him the go ahead to be alone with Maggie, and the young couple went off into a tent together.

Andrea had started to head off into another tent, moving Astrid slowly forward to go along with her, when Hershel spoke. "Andrea, wait. Why doesn't she stay with me? I can keep an eye on her."

Carol watched Andrea. The woman hesitated looking back at Hershel, and then her gaze flittered to T-Dog who smiled hopefully at the idea of pairing up with her. "Are you sure?," Andrea asked.

Hershel nodded. "Yea, she's injured, I really will need the time to get a better look at her and see if there's anything I can do. This way I can take it slow. And…" he trailed off, cleared his throat and began again, "and she's about Beth's age… It would mean a lot… it would mean a lot to me to be able to help her." He cast a glance at Carol who smiled knowingly and nodded.

Andrea guided Astrid toward Hershel, murmuring to the young girl about the doc and how he wouldn't hurt her, how he was a nice man and how he could help her. And then, once Hershel and Astrid were safely ensconced in a tent, Andrea connected eyes with Carol and smiled.

"I'm glad you're okay," Andrea said softly.

"You too…," Carol replied, "we've got to stop ending up like this." Andrea chuckled and then took T-Dog's extended hand and went off into another available tent with him.

Carol watched with a grin. _T-Dog and Andrea… who'd have thought. _And then she turned to see Daryl still sitting in the dark with his brother, and went to him.

* * *

><p>Daryl knew it was her by the soft footsteps, but he didn't look up. He was struggling with himself. Overwrought with emotion, and slightly ashamed for it. Merle would be pissed at him… sobbing like a woman, and then too broken to get up and be the leader he'd reluctantly trudged into being.<p>

He should have been with the others, helping to search the place, making sure they were safe. He shouldn't have been sitting ashamed and wrecked at the death of a brother who Daryl had only liked about half of the time anyway. Merle, who'd probably only liked Daryl for about half of the time too.

They'd run the gamut of emotions over all their years together. And this was how it ended.

Carol settled down next to him, not touching him, but close enough that he felt the air surrounding him become disturbed at her presence. She cleared her throat.

"Save it," he muttered, his voice angrier than he'd intended. He glanced up at her, now a new layer encroaching on his shame, and her eyes were bold in the moonlight, staring at him.

She cleared her throat again, stared at Daryl and said aloud, "Merle, you sure could be a fucking jackass at times. But that doesn't mean that there weren't parts of you to love. And when you were your meanest, it's probably because you didn't know how to be any different. But when it counted, when it really counted… you were there. You keep Sophia safe and out of trouble up there, okay." She kept her eyes on Daryl the whole time she spoke. Her words were clearly just as much for him as they were for Merle.

"Ya think Merle's in fuckin' heav'n?," Daryl said quietly, his tone a bit incredulous.

"Yea, Daryl, I really do."

"Fucker prob'ly gone to hell… wasn't no salvation in Merle," Daryl grumbled.

Carol shrugged. "There was though. He saved me. He loved you. He might not have ever said it, but he did. I'm not saying Merle was a great guy, Daryl. And I'm not excusing all the shit he did. But he was your brother, and despite whatever hell you put each other through, he loved you. And you loved him. In the end, that's all that ever matters."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, glanced from Merle to her and back to Merle. And then he nodded. "Can't argue that." He locked eyes with her again and reached over, took her hands in his.

"I'm not good at this shit, Carol… this lovin' shit," he started. "But I l've ya, with all of me. I l've ya like no one else. And I need ya somethin' awful. Always have, always will. Even, prob'ly 'specially, when I'm an ass bout shit, I still need ya. I know the world we live in ain't right, hell, it sucks…but would ya… would ya, be with me, fo'ever… ya know, b' my wife or some shit like tha'?"

Carol grinned at him; her hands were warm in his own. "Daryl Dixon… are you… are you asking me to marry you?"

Daryl looked sheepish, and muttered, "well fuck, yea… yea, I s'pose so."

And she kissed him, her lips searching on his own, warm and wanting more, and then she pulled away, leaving both of them breathless. "Daryl, aside from Sophia, and maybe Rose too, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. Of course, I'll marry you."


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N – Sorry it took me so long to get this story updated. I was super busy yesterday. I'll try to post another chapter tonight, but it might not get up until tomorrow. Thank you for all the reviews and for reading! Just a warning that things are going to get a little rough… sometimes they have to get real bad before they can get better. But don't forget that Carol and Daryl love each other and they can make it through. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 50 – Just Too Soon<p>

Carol woke feeling really happy, which was kind of strange considering the events of the last twenty-four hours. In such a short time, she'd gone from a car crash where she lost a friend, to being held by homicidal rapists, to yet another walker attack where afterward she had to sit by Daryl as he put down his own brother. All that was missing was bears, or mountain lions, or rabid squirrels. But she woke with Daryl's arm draped over her, their bodies curled together, spooning, her back flush against his chest, and the words of his proposal still ringing in her head.

She couldn't imagine anything better than being his wife. _Mrs. Carol Dixon. _

They'd slept with their clothes on, feeling exposed out in the clearing even inside the tent, so all Carol needed to do to get ready was straighten herself up a bit and lace up her boots. Daryl watched her as she fumbled around inside the tent in the darkness. She noticed and blushed; glad that in the shadows he probably couldn't tell how red her face was. She smiled at him as she finished lacing her boots.

"What?," she asked.

"Ya ain't gonn' need a real weddin' and all that shit… fuckin priest, 'xpensive fluffy white dress… is ya?" His face looked pained as he said it.

She grinned. "Cold feet already, Daryl?"

Daryl smirked, "nah… jus' lookin' to know what I got m'self into 'ere."

"A priest, huh… there's a thought. And where do you suppose we find one of those?, she joked, "maybe we can raid a church, find a walker priest, chain him up and let him growl at us for about half an hour." She chuckled at that and Daryl rose up off the blankets to stand in front of her. She moved closer to him, and put her arms around his neck, moving her face close to his and breathing him in. "That's not much unlike a real wedding, you know… but no, Daryl, I don't need any of that. The wedding doesn't matter. That's not what makes a marriage, and really all I care about is being with you."

Daryl nodded, his mouth curling into a proud smile, and he kissed her, letting his hands travel her body during the kiss, until she broke away and murmured, "later… first let's go home."

* * *

><p>They grabbed what little they had, and took a few extras from the campsite that might be helpful , and snagged an abandoned vehicle with a full tank of gas to get them back to the bike and the original vehicle they'd come in. Daryl couldn't help but watch Carol closely. She said she was fine, but she was covered in bruises, scrapes, and dried blood.<p>

And she'd told him, the night before, about killing Jake. She confessed that she felt like a murderer, even though he'd told her that Jake would have just killed her, or worse, let her live after he was done with her. Live with whatever he could have done to her. The thought made Daryl shudder. He had to do a better job of protecting her.

When they reached the bike, she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. They roared up the road with Glenn, Maggie, and Hershel in one car; T-Dog, Andrea and Astrid in the other, heading toward Jekyll Island. Daryl loved the feel of Carol sitting behind him, her body vibrating with the bike, her chest pressed into his back, her hands locked together on his stomach.

In his whole life, he'd never imagined that something could feel so right, and that he could be so happy. As Jekyll Island loomed into view ahead of them, Daryl was thinking that on the next supply run he should find Carol a ring. He was thinking that even if it didn't matter that much to her, it mattered to him… the ring… just something to make them official.

* * *

><p>T-Dog jumped out of the vehicle to unlock the gate to the golf club entrance, and he waited until everyone had passed through before shutting it behind them. Carol was up off the bike before Daryl had put down the kickstand and she was off and running toward the entrance to the building. She was eager to see Rose, hold the baby in her arms again. It felt like forever since she'd been here.<p>

She burst inside, calling out, "Lori!, We're back! Carl!" No sound greeted her. She stopped in the foyer, and heard the others coming in behind her.

She glanced at Daryl, "maybe they're in the back?"

"Could be sleeping," T-Dog suggested, "I think Lori likes to nap around now."

Carol moved further into the building, the others on her heels, and she turned the corner into the kitchen. Carl was lying on the floor, blood pooled around him.

"Carl!," she gasped, rushing to his side.

The young boy was pale, unconscious, but still breathing – slow, ragged breaths punctuated by wet wheezes as blood clearly gurgled into his lungs. He'd been stabbed – once in the side of his chest, the wound clearly deep, possibly a puncture to his lung; and once in the shoulder. Hershel was there suddenly, crouching next to Carol, attending to the boy, and Carol rose up.

"Lori!," she hollered, desperate to hear a response. _Rose! _She screamed Rose's name internally, but couldn't get herself to voice it. As if saying the baby's name would break her, freeze her in her tracks.

She glanced at Daryl, her eyes wide with panic.

"There's more blood in here," Andrea called out from another area of the building.

Daryl grabbed Carol's hand and half-led, half-dragged her toward Andrea's voice. He muttered to her, "'gonn' be okay." She squeezed his hand as they turned into the doorway where Andrea was.

Carol gasped, her heart breaking slightly when she saw the blood. This wasn't the blood she'd expected. This was birthing blood. "Oh God," she whispered. _Lori. _

She saw the smears of blood on the floor, the messy fleshy bundle lying in a mess of towels on the floor in the corner of the room, the unmistakable smell. She moved over to the bundle of towels, Daryl moving with her.

Lori had only been five or six months along in her pregnancy; it had just been too soon. The tiny form wrapped in blood and mucous and birthing flesh, cord still attached, lay there, unmoving, dead for a while, maybe even before it was born. The baby was impossibly small and compact, like a miniature, shrunken version of what it should have been. It couldn't have weighed much more than a pound.

"Is tha'…?," Daryl said, his voice low.

Carol bit her lip, bit the tears back, and nodded, kneeling down beside the towels… beside Lori's tiny baby… Lori's tiny baby girl. "Even if we'd been here, even if Hershel had been here… I don't think it would have mattered. It was just too soon," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. Daryl gripped her hand, silently giving her comfort with his touch.

Andrea hung her head, crouching down next to them. "Poor Lori."

"We can't find Lori or Rose anywhere," Glenn said from the doorframe. His face was grim.


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N – Author Kurt Vonnegut has been quoted as "Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them – in order that the reader may see what they are made of." That's all I'm going to say in my author's note about this chapter. I do want to thank the reviewers for the last chapter though, and thank you to everyone who has read this story so far. I really appreciate your taking the time to read this and I love reading your reviews! Thank you!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 51 – A Terrible Thing<p>

Carol stood nervously to the side while Daryl and Hershel tried to wake Carl. She chewed the fingernails on one hand, pacing back and forth. She couldn't stand the waiting. She knew they were right to question Carl before rushing off, but the waiting was awful. It was like with Sophia all over again, she was in the sidelines, watching, waiting, knowing the end result was not good, but not able to do anything about it.

Daryl glanced up at Carol and met her eyes. His eyes were as bloodshot as hers, and if it weren't for the adrenaline coursing through his veins in anticipation of whatever action came next, he'd be shaking and pacing too.

"Son, son, wake up, Carl…," Hershel said, tapping his hand against Carl's cheek.

Glenn rushed forward, "Mr. Greene, this was in your bag," and handed a small package of smelling salts to the older man.

Hershel nodded his thanks, and lifted the smelling salts to the boy's nose. Carl coughed weakly, and his eyes opened slowly. He blinked, confused, and then he gasped and groaned in pain.

"Carl…," Hershel started, trying to keep the boy calm. "Carl, you need to stay calm, don't move too much. I know it hurts, son, but we need to know what happened here. Who did this to you?"

Carl's eyes watered and he bit his lip before speaking. "M… m… my mom. My mom did this… I tried to stop her, sir. I swear I did."

Before Carl could continue, Daryl growled menacingly, "yer ma? Yer ma did this? Fuckin' bitch, what the fuck was she thinkin'."

Hershel put a hand up to quiet Daryl and said softly, "I think the point here is that she wasn't thinking, Daryl."

Daryl glared but said nothing.

Carl spoke up again faintly, addressing Hershel but loud enough in the silent room for the rest to hear, "I don't know what happened, sir. She was fine, and then she said the baby was coming. She made me leave the room. She yelled at me, made me leave. And when she came out, she shut the door, there was no baby, a lot of blood on her clothes, but no baby. And she asked me for Rose, and I thought she was fine… maybe she wanted to show Rose the baby? I don't know what I thought." He paused to cough, groaning a little. "Then she just… went crazy… or something. She started yelling at me, telling me that something was wrong with Rose. Rose was crying, but my mom wouldn't let me see her, wouldn't let me take her back. She kept saying Rose was wrong, Rose was bad… but I think something was wrong with my mom, really. She looked weird, crazy. She said something about hurting Rose, and I went for her… to get her back, and that's the first time I seen the knife. I hadn't even seen the knife before then, and she stabbed me… my mom stabbed me." Carl had started to cry, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Hershel waved the others away and looked pointedly at Daryl. "Find her… it sounds like post-partum coupled with the fact that her own baby didn't make it." He paused and lowered his voice so that Carl couldn't hear, "this is bad, Daryl. This is real bad. Find her."

Maggie seemed to read a silent signal from her father, and crouched down next to Carl so that Hershel could stand and speak privately to Daryl. Carol hovered not far away, straining to hear.

Hershel kept his voice low, and said ominously, "Daryl… you have to understand, Carl's been like this for at least thirty minutes, maybe even an hour… when you find them, chances are it'll already be too late. You'd best prepare yourself for that."

A sob buried deep down in Carol's throat swelled up and escaped her lips drawing both Daryl and Hershel's attention. Hershel's gaze was sorrowful but Daryl's gaze was worse – it was utterly distraught, a mix of terror, anger, and pure grief.

"I'm sorry, Carol," Hershel said.

Daryl cleared his throat, and took hold of her arm firmly. "Carol, darlin', ya listen to me. Wha'ever happens… wha'ever we find… I'm 'ere, I'm with ya. That babe… well, she was my lil' girl too."

Carol's chest heaved, but she held back her tears. She kept her glossy eyes on Daryl and nodded. "She was Daryl… and she is, no matter what we find… she's still yours. Yours and mine. I'm not sure I can take it though… if…"

"Ya can. Ya will. Together. Ya can if we's gits through it together."

Carol exhaled heavily, her gaze on him intense, and nodded.

They moved quickly out of the room and to the front door. T-Dog and Andrea followed, leaving Glenn, Maggie, and Astrid with Hershel to help with Carl.

"The front gate was locked when we got here," Carol said softly as they moved.

"Wha'?," Daryl said, looking at her sideways.

"That's right!," Andrea gasped.

T-Dog looked confused.

"Yer right," Daryl said then, recognition dawning. "So they's still 'ere somewhere…"

Carol nodded, "somewhere on the golf course… they've got to be here somewhere."

They headed outside, knowing that the inside of the building was clear but no one had thought to look outside. They moved quickly through the overgrown grass, up a steep incline in the course until they reached the top and could look down below as the course winded through the land. There was a water hazard down below, and they could see Lori in the weeds next to the water hazard, rocking back and forth manically as she seemingly plunged something into the water.

Carol started to run, her legs pumping down the hill, her balance unsteady but her head so intent on getting to the bottom that it didn't matter to her if she ran and her legs got her there or if she tripped and slid the whole way down on her bottom. She managed to reach the bank of the water hazard first, Daryl just a moment after. She lunged at Lori, knocking the woman over, grappling with her as she tried to pry what Lori was holding from her grasp.

Lori seemed to screech at the intrusion, but her words were incoherent, her movements were stiff and off, and Carol finally yanked Rose from Lori's hands.

Carol backed up urgently, holding Rose in her hands. The baby's skin was freezing cold, her face was blue. Carol started to choke on her sobs, on her grief, and she fell to her knees, gripping the baby to her chest.

Daryl was there then, next to her, his arms encircling her.

T-Dog and Andrea must have been dealing with Lori, but Carol didn't notice, she didn't care. All that mattered was Daryl and Rose. She held the baby out to Daryl.

"I… I… I think it's too late… I… I…," she stammered out and Daryl took Rose from her.

Daryl stripped his shirt off his back, suddenly not caring if anyone saw his scars, and he bundled Rose in his shirt. Her skin felt like ice, and he was shaking – not from the cold, but from the fear. The fear that he had failed again. That Rose was his last chance, and he'd failed.

He placed the bundled up baby down on the ground. She wasn't breathing, her face was blue, her lips nearly purple. He had no way of knowing how long Lori had been plunging the baby down helplessly into the water. He had no way of knowing if Rose had struggled in Lori's arms, no way of knowing if a baby that young could cry out in her mind for the only father and mother she'd ever known – Daryl and Carol.

Carol crouched on the ground on the other side of Rose, her knees grazing against Daryl's as they looked down at the baby. She leaned down and put her face over Rose's. She tilted the baby's chin up slightly, and put her warm lips to Rose's frozen ones – and she breathed out, exhaling into Rose's mouth once, and then twice. She pulled back and using her index finger and middle finger, she felt on Rose's chest for the baby's tiny breastbone, and started to push down, doing chest compressions. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten… _she kept going until she had done thirty, counting in her head the whole time. And she stopped, moved back to the baby's mouth, and breathed – once, twice.

Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, she put two fingers back to the baby's chest… compressing again… but she was shaking, she couldn't stop, she couldn't regain her control. Daryl's hands were there then, he was behind her, steadying her… two fingers placed on top of hers over the baby's chest, his other arm draped around her, embracing her, holding her, rubbing against her skin. _He's here… he's with me. I'm not alone in this._ His fingers on hers, and they pushed together, compressing the baby's chest…

And there was a gurgle, the smallest of noises she'd ever heard… but perhaps the most hopeful sound ever to be heard by anyone in the whole world… and then it was there again… the gurgle, as water gushed up from Rose's tiny mouth and the baby coughed a tiny, involuntary cough… and again, gurgle, cough, the sputtering of water, and Carol gathered the baby wrapped in Daryl's shirt in her arms. Daryl's arms still encircling her, now encircling the both of them, as they held the baby together as she coughed… as she breathed… as she lived.


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N – Sorry it took me so long to update! This is a short one, but I wanted to get something up. My schedule is not allowing me to write fan fiction as much as I'd like, but I'm doing my best. Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you can appreciate where both Daryl and Carol are coming from in this chapter. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 52 – An Ethical Dilemma<p>

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Carol rose up off the ground with Rose in her arms; the baby's face now quickly warming to a rosy pink color. Carol offered the baby to Daryl and he accepted her numbly.

Then Carol lunged her body at Lori in full assault mode, her face twisted with rage and she screamed, "you stupid bitch!"

Lori, even in her zoned out state, seemed to be aware of the danger as she started backing up away from Carol even before she had lunged. But the retreat was useless, Carol knocked Lori onto the ground and they rolled there a moment – Lori flailing in an attempt to get away and Carol consumed by vicious anger and fueled by a desire to punish the other woman for her acts.

And then Carol was being pulled away by Andrea, the other woman's arms wrapping around Carol's body – one across her chest and the other across her waist, pulling Carol in close as Andrea made shushing, calming noises in her ear.

"Shhh, shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay, Carol, just relax," Andrea's voice floated in Carol's ear but did nothing to soothe the anger inside of her.

Carol was trembling, literally shaking with rage. She'd never been so angry in her life. Not with the governor, not when she killed Jake, and not even when Ed was alive. She locked eyes with Lori who was standing next to T-Dog now, her eyes wide and wet as she stared at Carol in some kind of shock.

"I hate you," Carol spat the sentiment at Lori, struggling to break free from Andrea's grasp.

"But… but… what… what's going on?," Lori said softly, her voice low, and she blinked several times as if she was just waking up.

"What's going on?," Carol ranted, enraged, "what's going on is you probably killed your son and you nearly killed my daughter, you stupid fucking bitch!"

"That's 'nough!," Daryl hollered coming to stand in between where Andrea held Carol and where Lori and T-Dog stood.

Carol gritted her teeth and glared at Daryl. "She almost killed our daughter!," Carol hissed after a moment.

Daryl held a hand up to her, glanced down at Rose in his arms, and then stepped closer to Carol, his face right up against hers. "I know… but this ain't the time for flyin' off the fuckin handle, woman. Git a hold-a yerself, take Rose, and get 'er to the doc… jus' in case. We've got this." He glanced at Andrea and T-Dog to confirm.

Carol's whole body was tense, but she huffed an angry breath of concession. "You want to handle it, Daryl… you better fucking handle it," she said, her tone harsh as she took the baby from his arms and stalked off up the hill toward the building.

* * *

><p>Daryl might have chuckled if the circumstances weren't what they were. His woman had come into her own, and he couldn't help but be proud of her. He knew she was pissed at him, probably had a right to be. He couldn't deny that Lori deserved Carol's words and her attack and probably much more, but he was the group's leader now and he had to deal with this.<p>

How exactly to deal with it, he had no clue, however. Lori wasn't a dangerous woman normally. Neglectful, definitely. Reckless sometimes, yes. Damn fuckin' stupid, hell to the yes.

He was sure in another life, before walkers roamed everywhere, what Lori had done would get her arrested, convicted, and probably sent up to jail… or at least locked up in some kind of psych ward. But this wasn't back then. Those rules didn't apply anymore.

Lori wasn't like the governor or his people, and she wasn't like the men that were back at that camp with Merle… this was something else, something they weren't equipped for.

"What are you going to do?," Andrea asked, her tone implying she already knew the answer.

"What'd ya like me to do, blondie?," Daryl snarled as he pulled the gun from his pants.

"You're gonna shoot her?," T-Dog said, one of his hands gripping the arm of a very confused Lori.

"I… don't…. understand," Lori said, her voice flat and halting.

Daryl looked at Lori, at the confused look on her face, at the way her eyes were dull and nearly lifeless; her face was pale, blood stained her pants. "Well fuck," he muttered to himself. He stuck the gun back into his belt and started up the hill briskly. "Bring 'er the fuck up 'ere," he snapped at T-Dog, waving for Andrea to follow.

"You're not going to shoot her?," Andrea said stepping into line with him as they moved up the hill. T-Dog trailed them, pulling Lori along with him. Lori didn't struggle, but she moved complacently, shuffling her feet like she couldn't pick them up off the ground, looking around as if she really had no idea what was going on.

"I ain't decided yet," Daryl muttered in response.

"What's to decide exactly?," Andrea said.

_Fuckin' Rick… promise a man somethin' on his deathbed, ya best fuckin mean it. _He'd promised Rick that he'd look after Lori, after his whole family. Daryl couldn't help but think that he had failed once again. But Daryl only let the thoughts simmer in his head, didn't give them voice; he didn't know if anyone would understand his dilemma anyway.

Instead, he just looked at Andrea for a second, his eyes hard and cold, and then picked up the pace, moving swiftly up the hill to reach the others. To get more information from them. To give them all the information he had. And they could figure this out together.


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N – Don't worry, I plan to deal with the Lori situation… I have a plan for where that's going to go very soon. But I figured we could all use a little something else after all the drama…**

**Hope you like! Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing from you all! You're all just so great, I can't even tell you how great you are! **

* * *

><p>Chapter 53 – Fighting and Loving<p>

Carol was nowhere to be found when Daryl and the others reached the lobby of the building. Hershel and Glenn were waiting there for Daryl, T-Dog, Andrea, and Lori. Clearly Carol had told them what had happened.

"Take her into the empty room next to mine," Hershel directed T-Dog. "Stay there with her, Theodore."

T-Dog nodded and went off with Lori. Andrea and Glenn went off as well, presumably to check on Carl and the others.

"Carol see ya?," Daryl asked.

"Yes, she did. I told her Rose seems fine… we can't know at this point if there will be any permanent damage, but from what I can tell right now, she's a happy enough three month old. Her body temp is still coming up, but she's engaging like normal, and her reflexes seem to have no change from her last check-up with me."

Daryl nodded. "And Carl?"

Hershel gave Daryl a grim tight-lipped smile. "He's stable… for now. I gave him a sedative though so he can sleep. What's the plan for Lori?"

Daryl ran his hands over his head, through his hair and grimaced at the man. "I'm-a gonna get group input on that. What're yer thoughts on the matter?"

"Hard to say… I knew a woman once, most docile thing you ever met. I used to treat her cows when they needed it, played poker with her husband. She used to bring me apple pies and casseroles after my first wife died. She had three kids, all younger than 9. Her fourth baby died at two months, SIDS, I guess, but before they called it that. About a month later she drove her car, herself and all the other little ones into a lake… only the oldest made it out."

Daryl eyed the older man, his eyes hooded and his brow furrowed. "What're ya sayin' here 'xactly?"

"I guess just that, sometimes people in the best of times can snap when something bad happens and they can't handle it, do things they wouldn't normally have ever done."

"This ain't 'xactly the best of times," Daryl said.

Hershel nodded, moving away from Daryl, his voice was soft as he spoke, "don't I know it." About halfway down the hallway, Hershel turned back to Daryl. "I think though, before you talk to the others, before we make any decisions… we need to involve Carl in this. She's his mother, and the kid should have a voice here."

Daryl nodded in response.

* * *

><p>Carol left the bedroom, and a very sleepy Rose, briefly to meet with the others. She kept her eyes averted as Daryl explained that while he knew something had to be done, and done fast, it wasn't something just one man could or should decide. It had to be a group decision, regardless of what was decided. He'd told them they would have the night to think it over. He wanted Carl involved, and Hershel wanted to give the boy the night to sleep and to heal before asking him something of this magnitude.<p>

Their options weren't many. They could kill Lori, or leave her to die, or try to help her and keep her with them. As Carol glanced around surreptitiously at the others, she knew it wasn't an easy decision to make. Her anger still clouded her thoughts. In her anger, she wanted Lori to die. Somewhere deep down though, she knew that Lori hadn't been in her right mind. She knew Lori had done what she had done for reasons Carol prayed she would never understand; she knew Lori had snapped at the loss of her baby… but none of that helped Carol at the moment. Even knowing all of that, Carol didn't trust Lori. Not now, not after this. She'd never trust her. Even if the group kept the woman alive, tried to help Lori get through this, Carol would never trust her. Carol wouldn't have anything to do with her ever again. As far as Carol was concerned, Lori was dead to her already.

T-Dog and Andrea offered to keep watch on Lori through the night. They had shut her in a room and had considered tying her to the bed, but finally Andrea had offered to stay in the room with her, with T-Dog standing watch in the hall outside. They didn't expect a problem from her though. Lori was just lying there on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as Carol passed by the room.

She moved into her own room, the room she shared with Daryl, and peeked in on Rose. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Carol couldn't help herself, hovering her hand a few inches from the baby's mouth to feel the hot air exhaled there. She needed to reassure herself that Rose was alive, that Rose was okay.

Then Carol stripped down and lay down in the bed under the covers, her back to Daryl's empty side of the bed and the door.

It wasn't long before she heard his soft footsteps and the door clicked shut behind him. She could hear the rustlings of him removing his boots, stripping down to his undergarments. She felt his presence as he stood next to the bed peering down at her, but she didn't move, didn't turn, didn't make an effort to look up at him.

"Ya fuckin' pissed now?," he said abruptly.

She almost laughed. This was the old Daryl. The Daryl who was gruff and had a habit of snapping at people back at Hershel's farm. The Daryl who didn't share feelings. She thought they had left that Daryl behind.

She wasn't really mad. Not at him anyway. He hadn't done anything wrong as far as she was concerned. But she didn't want him to know that yet. She knew it was childish, giving him the cold shoulder, making him think she was pissed when she really knew he was right in everything he'd done, everything he'd said. But she almost couldn't help herself. She never got to be pissed back when Ed was around, and even after Ed… it had taken her a long time to realize she had a voice, an opinion, and that there wasn't anything wrong with that. So she let herself lie there in silence, not responding to his question, keeping her body still, letting the empowerment of anger cover her like a blanket.

* * *

><p>Daryl knew she was awake. Even in the darkened room, he knew her eyes were still open. He huffed at her silence, and got into the bed. He laid there on his back, not encroaching into her space on the bed, their bodies not touching in any way.<p>

He ached to touch her. So much had happened since they'd been in this room last.

The room was so quiet. Deathly quiet. He hated this quiet. It was uncomfortable. He'd always like the quiet in the past. He was greatly accustomed to the quiet; the quiet of the woods on a hunt, keeping himself quiet so that he could observe, take in more than he let out. Carol was quiet in some ways too, but with him, when it was just the two of them, she was never quiet. His woman was a talker. And he hated the way she wasn't talking now.

Minutes passed in silence. He let himself think about all that had happened. The morning she left for the run with Alex, Andrea, and Glenn. The car crash that killed Alex. Glenn coming back to the golf club alone. Setting out to find her, and then finally finding her. A short-lived reunion before fighting broke out. Carol stopping him from killing his own brother. More fighting, but this time with walkers. Finally making peace with Merle, and then putting Merle to rest. Asking Carol to be his wife. Then coming back to find Carl, the loss of Lori's baby, Lori's breakdown… losing Rose, saving Rose.

He could hear the tick, tick of the battery powered clock on the wall. "I almost lost ya too, ya know," he finally breathed out into the still, quiet room.

Carol shifted on the bed, turned her body to face him, but still curled up a few inches away. She gazed at him for a few moments before speaking, "you'll never lose me."

He turned his head to look at her. "Are we's fightin'?"

Carol smiled at him. "No." She pushed her body across the few inches that gapped them, put one arm across his chest to bring her fingers up to trace the jut of his jaw, curled one leg over and around his, and snuggled close to him. He realized then that she was naked.

He smiled broadly, turned his face to her fingers, and took one in his mouth, suckling it, letting his tongue twirl around it.

Carol grinned, let the desire build as his warm mouth enveloped her finger, and then she twisted, moving her body to lie on top of his. Pulling her finger free, she kissed him, replacing it with her tongue in his mouth, languidly slipping it in between his moist lips, and letting it dance with his own. She ran one of her hands down his side, sliding it into his boxers and grasping his shaft to roll the soft, velvet-like skin. Daryl moaned into her mouth as they kissed, their lips growing hungrier as they tasted more of each other.

Daryl moved his hands across Carol's back, feeling her smooth, warm skin, and then he grasped her hips, and rolled, maneuvering her beneath him on the bed so that he hovered over her, his lips still hot on hers.

He let his hand stop at her breast, rolled the nipple there until she arched up at him, a groan of pleasure, a smile of delight; and he moved the hand down across the soft canvas of her belly, down to her soft mound, and let his fingers trace around her core, before dipping one in, sliding it into the wetness there, her muscles rippling to give it access.

Carol moved her hand across Daryl's back, the hard, chiseled muscle there, and then down over his smooth, tight ass, to skim his thigh before reaching for his shaft. She flitted a finger across the hole at the head, and he jerked, wiggled the finger he had inside of her. She moaned, giggled in delight against his lips.

And then he moved again, drawing his finger out slowly, and then replacing it with his hard, pulsing member. She lifted her hips, drawing him in deeper, letting her body cradle him inside, the walls of her core rippling with pleasure at finally being full with him again.

They rocked together on the bed quietly, using their lips and their tongues to silence each other's moans and cries of love. Their climaxes built as he thrusted inside, as she matched him with each plunge. Their pace was slow but sweet, as he rocked deeper inside of her, and she grew hotter and wetter and tighter around him. She broke first, her orgasm coming in waves as she throbbed around him, the soft whimper of satisfaction she gave that died against the skin of his neck as she kissed and licked her way across it.

He grew harder, felt himself coming to release, as the walls squeezed tighter around his erection, milking him as she moved her hips slightly to take more, and then he felt the gratification of release as he came, his body trembling as he spurted into her, as she rocked with him, keeping the movement and feeling going when he could no longer do so, until they were both moaning together and kissing to quiet themselves. Afterward, they broke apart only long enough for her to slide over, wrapping her leg back around his like before, her head on his chest listening to his rapid, but slowing heartbeat, and they held one another in the quiet peace of the room as they fell asleep.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54 – A Sad End

Carol sat next to Daryl at the table in the golf club's conference room. His hand was resting on her thigh, and it made her smile. She loved this man so much. Maggie was rocking Rose beside Carol, glancing occasionally at Glenn with a secret smile on her lips. Carol couldn't help but notice and wondered what was going on with those two.

Hershel helped Carl into the room. The boy was still weak, but his color, while still his typical pallor, was better than the day before when they'd first found him. He hobbled with Hershel's assistance and took a seat across from Daryl. Hershel took the seat beside Carl.

They had let Astrid sit this meeting out. It didn't seem fair to include the girl when she was so new to the group and when the language issue was such a struggle for her. Astrid had really taken to Hershel though and Carol could see he'd been treating her like his own daughter.

Last in to the room were Andrea and T-Dog. They slipped in quietly and Daryl looked at them questioningly.

"She's asleep," Andrea said as her and T-Dog took their seats.

Daryl nodded.

"How did the night go?," Hershel asked. Carol kept her head down, her focus on her hands in her lap. A part of her was bothered that she was being so callous, but a bigger part of her couldn't make herself care about Lori.

"It was rough. She screamed some, cried a lot… she still seems pretty much out of it," Andrea said.

Daryl cleared his throat. "Ya'll know why yer all 'ere. Somethin' has to be done bout Lori… but I think we need to decide as a group on this one."

"What do you think we should do?," Glenn asked, looking earnestly at Daryl.

Daryl sighed and Carol could feel his conflict. She knew Daryl was as angry at Lori as she was, but she knew he lacked her conviction in the rage they both felt. They had already talked this morning. Daryl felt responsible for Lori. He felt he had made a promise to Rick to protect her, and while he couldn't quite connect that with the anger he now felt, he still felt bound by his promise. Carol felt his hesitation and spoke out.

"Daryl thinks we should help her. He thinks she's sick, and that regardless of what she did…," Carol paused, taking a breath to steady her heart before continuing. "Regardless of what she did… she's still one of us."

"Is that what _you_ think?," Maggie said, directing her question to Carol.

Carol smiled slightly, looking at Maggie. "No," she said simply.

"So what are our options?," T-Dog said, "help her or kill her?"

"What other choice is there?," Andrea said. "We can't exactly get rid of her without killing her… she knows where we are, she could compromise the whole place if we dump her somewhere alive and the wrong person gets a hold of her."

"You… want… to… kill my mom?," Carl said, his voice measured and his gaze shifting from Daryl to Carol.

"That's wha' we hafta decide," Daryl said, locking eyes with the young boy.

"She's dangerous, Carl. We don't know what she could do… at least right now, the way she is right now," Carol said. She refused to cower from the boy's gaze. A part of her; the old, meek Carol, wanted to cower, but she had an opinion and it was hers to voice.

"What do you think, son?," Hershel said to Carl.

Carl's eyes were watery. "She's my mom," he said. He took a deep, ragged breath. "I love my mom… I know she… did… this," he said, motioning at himself, to his wounds. "But she's still my mom. I think we need to help her."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the squeal of cold tires against hot pavement outside. They leapt from their seats and hurried to the windows, to the front door.

"It's Lori!," T-Dog yelled. "She's taking the car!"

Carol and Daryl reached the front door, flinging it open in time to see Lori pealing up the driveway, crashing through the still closed and locked gate, revving the car up the road, and turning onto the highway.

"Fuck!," Daryl snapped. He spun, his eyes fast and hard on Andrea. "Ya said she was fuckin' asleep!," he hissed.

"She was!," Andrea protested.

"Like hell," Daryl muttered.

"What do we do?," Hershel said.

"We go after 'er… like Blondie said… bitch knows too much for us to jus' let 'er leave." Daryl sighed. "T-Dog… Blondie… let's go."

"I'm coming," said Carol. Daryl glanced at her, his eyes saying no. Carol looked at Maggie wordlessly asking if she could watch Rose. Maggie nodded. "See," Carol said to Daryl, "I'm coming."

Daryl grunted, but didn't protest as she went for her crossbow and stuck her gun in the back of her pants.

* * *

><p>Daryl didn't want Carol to go, but he wasn't about to argue with her about it. Instead he grabbed his gear and got into a vehicle with her, T-Dog, and Andrea.<p>

It was maybe 15 miles up the highway when they saw the tire tracks where Lori had veered off the road, and a few moments later they found the abandoned car. She had left it in the woods, the door wide open, the keys still inside… they could hear the echo of the car beep, beeping in protest to being left that way.

Daryl found her track pretty quickly and they moved fast, further through the woods in search of where Lori had gone. Finally they stepped out of the woods into what looked like a small town, an old school building lay ahead of them, maybe a town store beyond that.

"Look!," Andrea hissed, pointing.

They all looked over to where Andrea was indicating and they could see Lori, moving forward, dragging her feet awkwardly as she stepped into their line of sight, moving slowly but pointedly toward… a group of at least twenty walkers. _Fuckin' bitch._

The walkers hadn't seen Lori yet. They were fixated on something, a meal probably, some of them were crouched on the ground and others were standing listlessly with their backs turned.

Without any words among them, Daryl, Carol and the others burst forward, moving quickly but as quietly as possible toward Lori. They crouched in the dirt on the side of the schoolhouse, trying to stay low and out of sight.

"Lori! No!," Andrea hissed again, her voice only getting as loud as she dared, not wanting to get the attention of the walkers.

Lori stopped moving, looked over at them. Her eyes connected with Carol's for a moment. Daryl felt Carol go stiff next to him and he grasped her hand.

It looked like Lori might waver, her eyes on Carol's, and then she shifted them to Daryl before pulling a gun from her pants and brandishing it wildly, her arms flailing, pulling the trigger repeatedly with the gun aimed at the sky as Lori screamed, "come and get me, you stupid fucks! I'm right here! Fucking eat me!"

Within seconds the walkers were swarming her, all twenty of them as they grabbed at her. Daryl saw one of Lori's arms shred off as three walkers grabbed for it at the same time, pulling in different directions, ripping into Lori with their teeth. As loud as Lori had been a second ago, she was just as quiet now as they tore into her, her body sinking to the ground as she was consumed by them, as the walkers continued to pull bits and pieces from her flesh. Her face was the last thing Daryl saw before she was completely surrounded and hidden from sight by the desperate walkers. Her eyes were bright but hollow, and she seemed to be smiling.

The group was dumbstruck. Carol's hand was tight entwined with Daryl's and he felt her arm shake as her shoulders heaved.

A sound alerted him to something behind them, and they spun. Walkers! They were everywhere, alerted by Lori's gunfire to the possibility of a meal. They were in all different directions, too many to count. Daryl pulled Carol with him as he ran.

* * *

><p>Branches whipped Carol in the face as she ran with Daryl. Her hand was slippery with sweat, but she fought to keep her grip on him. She stumbled slightly but he kept her going forward, his momentum to get away propelling her along. <em>Where are Andrea and T-Dog? <em>She had lost sight of them as they'd entered the woods.

She could hear the snapping of twigs, the movement of brush behind them as the walkers pursued.

Carol tripped suddenly, her body slamming into the ground, her face shoved into the dirt. She felt hands grabbing at her legs, and then Daryl was there pulling her up. "Come on!," he growled in her ear.

Walkers had overshot them; they were ahead of them, behind them, to the side of them. _They're everywhere!_

Panic ripped through Carol's body. They dropped hands to raise their weapons. Their aim was somehow steady. Carol took down four, Daryl took down five. It wasn't enough.

"We've got to split up! Divide them!," Carol yelled over the chaos.

Daryl met her eyes. His eyes seemed calm as he nodded, pointed with his crossbow in one direction and said, "That way… ya go. I'm goin' this way."

Carol shot a walker that was close up behind him, and nodded. Her eyes were not calm; she felt full of fear and adrenaline. "I love you," she said.

He smiled. His love for her was in his eyes now; he didn't even have to say it. She could feel it. "Fuckin go, woman. Get safe," was his gruff response as they both turned to run for it.

Carol's legs protested as she ran through the woods, turning her torso to look behind as she ran and shooting blind at the walkers that pursued. She missed on some, but she could count the shots she made by the bodies she heard hit the ground. She slammed a knife into a walker that got too close, and then another one. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of panic and fear, she put down the last one. She stood there a moment, amidst the trees, panting, unable to believe the bodies that surrounded her.

Worry churned her stomach. She felt sick. She put her hands on her knees and bent over, standing alone in the woods like that, waiting for the urge to vomit to pass. Time had barely moved as she choked down a sob finally and doubled around and back, running in the direction she thought Daryl had gone.

She could see the sun shining through the trees up ahead. She raced forward, skidding out of the trees into a small clearing, spinning to the right at a sound that drew her attention. She was standing in a clearing only 10 feet wide before the ground dropped off radically into a cliff, the bluff descending sharply down toward the water below.

From where she stood, the sound that had gotten her attention, she could see Daryl maybe 50 feet away from her, backed up to the cliff's edge, cornered and overcome by walkers. She screamed as the walkers swarmed him, and he took a step too far backwards. Losing his balance, Daryl toppled, his head turning toward her, their eyes meeting briefly before he disappeared over the edge.

Carol's breath caught in her throat as she dropped to the ground, looking desperately over the edge of the cliff. It was maybe 20 feet high, and she watched as Daryl fell, too far away from where she was lying to see him clearly as it looked like his body bounced off the rocks and plunged into the water below.

Suddenly, Andrea was in her ear, pulling her up, yelling at Carol to move, that the walkers that had overcome Daryl were coming for them… and Carol was dragged away from the edge of the bluff, pulled along by Andrea like deadweight as they numbly moved toward T-Dog and away from the advancing walkers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – I put my author's note at the end because of how this chapter finishes. I want to remind everyone that this is NOT the end of this story. There will be more to come. I have a plan, and despite the coming chapters (which may be difficult – be prepared for angst and darkness), I'd like to remind you that Carol and Daryl together is MY END GAME. Please keep that in mind. :) Thank you!**


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N – Another chapter… as you read this, keep remembering that my end game is Daryl and Carol together. It's angsty I know. Don't hate me yet, I promise there's a payoff and it may not be what you might think. I can't give anything else away, lest I spoil it. Hang in there, I promise it will be okay. **

**Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews! For all the most recent and wonderful reviews, I want to thank SOA Loving Mom, Spikesslayer8, LopezG, hockeydrmr9, TrixPandawan, abovetherim, hopelesslydevoted2svu, and anon. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 55 – Lost and Alone<p>

Carol was lost. Lost in her grief. Lost in this world without Daryl. The day Andrea dragged her away from the edge of that cliff, Carol had let herself be pulled along numbly. T-Dog and Andrea had loaded her into a vehicle, and they'd driven off back towards the golf course.

The whole time in the backseat of that car, Andrea had held on to Carol, holding her friend and stroking Carol's hair. And Carol had wanted to die. She didn't cry during that car ride back to the others. She didn't cry when they entered the golf club building to find everyone standing there waiting in the foyer for them. She didn't cry when Andrea told the others what had happened. She didn't cry as they all hugged her, murmuring their apologies and condolences.

It wasn't until moments later, when Maggie had given Rose to Carol, and Carol had fled with the baby into their bedroom, that Carol had cried. The door had only clicked shut behind them and Carol collapsed on the floor, clutching Rose to her chest. And she had sobbed. She had felt the world break into two around her, and she had sobbed with such distress and so loudly that she thought for sure Rose would fuss and scream. But the baby merely cried along with her, as if Rose understood.

Carol cried for hours that day, well into the night, huge racking sobs until she couldn't breathe and was on the verge of vomiting, until she finally did vomit. She cried after she placed Rose in her crib that night; while she lay on the bed, her head next to his pillow, not letting herself touch it, not wanting to disturb the place where he'd last lain.

She had insisted they go back, the very next day, insisted they go and look for him. He would have done it for them. T-Dog, Andrea and Glenn agreed, and they went to look. She had insisted on going too. She knew by the looks on all of their faces, the others knew they wouldn't find him. But she had to know, she had to see for herself. They didn't find his body. There was no way down that they could find, no way down safely to the bottom of the cliff.

Andrea had told Carol that she knew Daryl was gone. No one could have survived that kind of fall, and even if somehow he did, the waters below were rough and dangerous, and there was no way up and out. It wasn't possible that Daryl had lived. They all said so, standing there at the cliff's edge, gazing down at the bottom, searching for signs of life. And Carol had felt it, the weight of loss crushing down on her, and she had broken down again, crumbling to the ground, sobbing.

And for weeks after, Carol kept sobbing. She held it together when she had to be around the others. But she was basically useless to them at that point. She would step out of her room each day, attempt to be useful, do laundry, cook, but she'd stand there in the kitchen weeping into the pot as she stirred it. She'd do laundry in silence until she stumbled upon something that Daryl had once worn, and she'd start to sob, draining her tears into the clothes until they needed to be rewashed.

The others talked in hushed voices around her, worried but not wanting to push.

She cried in the mornings while she showered, sobbed into the running water, praying for this all to end, letting the tears gush each morning until she vomited into the drain.

She was sick with her grief. The loss of Daryl affected her in ways she'd never imagined the loss of anyone could.

In the darkness of the bedroom, when it was just her and Rose, she would stop crying and think about if she was betraying Sophia by being so overcome with loss and affliction at Daryl's death. Had she done a disservice to her daughter by not grieving like this back then for her? She let the guilt of that thought consume her. She let the grief and guilt and shame of it all fill her empty shell of a body until that was all that was there. Until that was all she was… just shame and guilt and grief.

Rose was the only blessing she had. Her salvation when there was no hope. The others tried. But they didn't know how to talk to her, how to help her. Carol was lost and the only way back was hers to find. No one could help her. She was broken, but only she, herself, could find the glue to piece herself back together.

The only love she had left was Rose. The only time an emotion aside from her grief and guilt and shame rose up inside of her, was when she was with Rose. When she held Rose in her arms and gazed at the beautiful baby that Rose was developing into. Rose was her only joy, her only chance at redemption in a river of pain.

Weeks went by as Carol cried; as Carol grieved. She sobbed until she was sick. She sobbed until she was numb. And when the numbness set in, she went weeks where she wouldn't speak to anyone except Rose.

Glenn and Maggie announced that they were getting married, that Maggie was having a baby. Hershel was going to officiate. And Carol congratulated them numbly before fleeing to her room and curling up on the floor, too numb to cry, only able to focus on the feel of the scratchy carpet against her skin.

She saw Carl help Astrid with her English, and watched Astrid attempt to teach the boy Swedish, as the two developed a friendship akin to something he had had with Sophia so many months ago.

She witnessed Andrea and T-Dog develop into more than just a friendship, more than just a fling, but a full-fledged relationship, and she wanted to be happy for them. She loved Andrea, her friend, the person who kept her eating and living and breathing when she stopped trying, when it hurt too much to try in the beginning. But Carol couldn't be happy.

She struggled against the grief, against the numbness and the aching loss of Daryl, but it was a wound too deep, too raw, and each night she let herself succumb to it, just to have to build herself back up the next day.

She woke one morning to the sound of Rose babbling in her crib. The dull ache was there in her chest as she opened her eyes. Nearly three months had passed since the day she lost Daryl, since the day she last saw his face, last told him she loved him, last felt the link between their souls as their hands held fast together.

She pulled herself up and off the bed and shuffled over to peer in at Rose. The baby giggled with glee at the sight of her, and Carol, in spite of herself, smiled. A vision of Daryl holding the baby to his chest and rocking her on the morning of their last day together flashed through Carol's mind and she grinned wider. Her memories were no less vivid than they were the day after she'd lost him, but somehow she was finding more joy in them than grief. She didn't know when it had changed, but it occurred to her at that moment that it had. That maybe she was coming out the other side of the long tunnel she had been moving through, finally moving forward. Not moving on, because she would always love Daryl, for as long as she lived and even after she was gone, but somehow moving forward, missing him at the same time, but moving forward all the same.

She moved down the hallway holding Rose, approaching the kitchen. She could hear voices and the banging of pots and pan, the clanging of spoons. "Morning," she said as she entered. Andrea and Maggie spun in surprise at her presence.

Andrea smiled widely, "well good morning!"

"Glad to see you're up," Maggie said. The younger girl had put on weight, five months pregnant now, and she finally had the smallest of baby bulges. Her face was glowing. Carol couldn't remember noticing that before, but it thrilled her to be noticing it now.

"How are you?," Andrea said intently.

"I'm…," Carol said, nodding her head slightly as she spoke, "good, I think. I think I feel… okay… not happy, but okay, maybe. That's good, right?"

"That's wonderful," Andrea and Maggie both said simultaneously.

"Can I help?," Carol offered, passing the baby over to Maggie who accepted the reprieve gladly. The two women had taken more than their fair share of responsibility of the cooking and cleaning while they let Carol work through her grief. She was thankful, but felt guilty at the same time for letting them do it. She knew Andrea especially was not a fan of the more menial tasks.

Carol moved over to the pot that Maggie had been stirring. She lifted the cover and the steam hit her nose. A wave of nausea came over her and she must have made a face because Andrea said with concern in her voice, "what's wrong?"

Carol shook her head, forcing herself to swallow thickly, trying to quell the nausea. She cleared her throat. "I don't know," she said.

"Are you feeling okay, Carol?," Maggie asked. "You look a little green."

"Who looks green?," T-Dog asked entering the room with Hershel.

"Carol does," Maggie answered.

Hershel peered at Carol, "hmm, yes, I'd say she does. Are you feeling all right?"

Carol shrugged, suddenly feeling a little sheepish for causing such a fuss. "Really, I'm fine," she said. "I think it's just because I'm hungry… I haven't been eating very well."

"You're lucky you're not pregnant," Maggie blurted out, "at least I'm over the nausea now, but it was horrible in the beginning. Glenn couldn't even stand to be in the room when I was puking my guts out every morning."

"Maggie!," Hershel chided his daughter, "that's hardly something to discuss while people are cooking dinner."

Carol felt her throat swelling up as her stomach churned and the taste of bile hit the back of her throat. She rushed from the room toward the nearest bathroom, leaving them all to stare after her in her wake.


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N – This will probably be my last update for the weekend, but I wanted to get it posted so here it is. Hope you like! Please read and review. Thank you so much! Hope everyone has a great weekend and, to those of you who are mothers - a wonderful Mother's Day!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 56 – The Forgotten Memories<p>

He didn't know his name. They told him they had found him lying on the dirt next to the water, broken and bleeding, but still breathing. So they took him in, gathered him up and brought him back to their home. Their names were Ron and April and they were a father and daughter who explained how they'd managed to find themselves a more or less safe place to ride out what was seemingly becoming the end of the world in their eyes.

They were nice enough people though, and they patched him up as best they could, changed his bandages, kept him still when he writhed in pain, held cold compresses to his head when his wounds became infected.

It took almost two months before he was able to get up and walk around of his own volition. He hated the time he spent in bed. He had nightmares, or at least so April told him. She would tell him in the morning about how he yelled out in his sleep. She told him that he called out the name "Sophia" every night.

He couldn't remember ever having known a Sophia. He couldn't remember anything and it drove him nuts. Ron told him that it would all come back, he just needed time. His brain needed time to heal, to stitch back together his memories, and until then his body could heal and he'd just have to be patient.

He got the distinct impression that he just wasn't very good at being patient. He would lie in bed in the beginning, wanting to scream and thrash. He hated the stillness, the quiet. He examined his body with his eyes and his fingers – found he had scars, really vicious ones. He wondered what kind of man he was… a good man, a bad man. He couldn't imagine what kind of man would have scars like he had.

When he was finally able to move around on his own, he discovered he had an innate ability to track. He could almost foresee the movement of an animal even without seeing it. He discovered he could shoot the crossbow that Ron and April had found near him. He figured it must have been his. He found that when he held it, it was more like an extension of his own arm than a weapon. He realized quickly that he loved to hunt, and he was good at it.

He found that he enjoyed the solitude much more than the company. While he tried to be kind and civil to the people who cared for him, he kept feeling himself want to pull away, want to leave them. He didn't want to talk when they approached him, he preferred to say nothing and just let them say what they had to… all the while wondering when they'd leave him alone again. But he tried, he felt he had to. They had taken care of him when he was nearly dead, brought him back to life.

He woke one morning with a dream fresh in his mind. It was of a woman, a beautiful woman with short graying dirty blonde hair. She had eyes bluer than he'd ever seen and in his dream she had looked at him with love. Visions of her flashed before his eyes while he had slept – the woman holding a baby, the woman kissing him, her tongue hot and slippery on his skin, him holding her against his body lying in bed. He saw himself searching in the woods, screaming out a name… _Sophia?_... and he saw himself slipping and sliding down a steep, muddy hill; almost felt the penetration of an arrow into his side as he saw it happen. And then he was awake, the last image in his mind of the woman, the beautiful woman leaning over him while he lay in a bed, the way she leaned over and kissed him on his forehead, ignoring his flinch, her words echoing in his mind. _"You're every bit as good as them." _

He could feel his heart pounding and that's when the light switched on beside him. He glanced up, startled, at April. The girl smiled gently at him.

"Are you okay?," she asked.

He nodded, still too caught up in the dream to speak. He didn't want to say anything; he wanted to keep the dream in his mind, he didn't want to risk talking to this girl and forgetting the woman in his dream.

April watched him expectantly; he could feel her eyes burning through him. He saw the way she watched him. Even being unable to remember what being wanted by a woman was like, he knew that this girl, a woman really – maybe five years his junior, assuming he was right about his own age – she wanted him.

He couldn't see April that way though. He'd wondered why one night. He'd lain awake in the darkness pondering why he didn't feel an attraction for this girl who was clearly smitten with him. She was a pretty girl, long brown hair, pretty brown eyes, kind and sweet. But when he looked at her, something in his mind just screamed that it was wrong, that he didn't want her, didn't want any girl, any woman. Until he had dreamed about the beautiful one. The woman with the short hair, the freckled face, the wisest, kindest, most loving eyes he'd ever seen. The woman of his dreams who looked through him and straight into his very soul.

Lying there in the dim lamplight, with April watching him expectantly, he knew he had to find this woman, this woman from his dreams. Somehow he knew she was alive, somewhere out there, and that she needed him.

He turned over, rolled away from April's gaze and closed his eyes. The vision of the woman of his dreams flashed in his mind, but this time, a name came with it. _Carol._


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N – Hope you like! I loved writing this chapter and I really hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for the reviews! **

* * *

><p>Chapter 57 – Beacon of Hope<p>

Carol sat on the cold, tiled bathroom floor after she had finished heaving, purging her body until it was dry and empty. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. She hadn't thought it was possible to throw up so much.

She groaned at the knock on the door. This was embarrassing. The first day that she actually felt like a human being again and wanted to help out, she was forced to race out of the kitchen and into the bathroom after the most innocent of comments. Maggie's comment wasn't even really gross. Carol had certainly heard worse in her lifetime, even seen worse. She wasn't known for having a weak stomach.

She stood up and opened the door to see Andrea standing there.

Andrea stood there with her hands behind her back. She smiled and put her hands up to show Carol – a bottle of seltzer in one hand, and a box of pregnancy tests in the other.

"What are you doing?," Carol asked meekly.

"You're my friend, and I'm here for you," Andrea said pushing her way into the bathroom. Carol turned around and let the door shut behind her.

"I don't need a pregnancy test, Andrea," Carol said. "I appreciate the thought though." Carol took the proffered seltzer though and took a small sip from the bottle. The fizz worked its way down her gullet and into her stomach.

Andrea put her empty hand on her hip and held out the box with her other hand. "You're one hundred percent sure?" Andrea's voice held doubt.

Carol sighed. "You don't understand, Andrea. There's no way. I'm thirty-nine years old. Every pregnancy I've ever had, aside from Sophia, ended by nine weeks. Plus, can you even imagine what kind of environment my body would have been providing over the past three months if I was pregnant? I've been an emotional wreck. I've hardly been eating. I'm like a giant death ball of stress and anxiety. Seriously, there's no way. It's not even possible. Okay?"

"You know, you haven't been using the tampons in the community bathroom…," Andrea said, moving her hand with the box closer to Carol.

Carol grinned. "Really? How would you know? Do you count them?"

Andrea guffawed. "Oh come on, Carol. You know you haven't."

"That's easy. Stress. Anxiety. Depression. I already said… giant death ball. All of that can screw up a woman's body. Seriously, Andrea."

"No, seriously Carol. Take the fucking test. Prove me wrong." Andrea extended the box again and this time Carol took a test out with a sigh of defeat.

"Fine. But get out, I'm not peeing on a stick with you in here with me."

Andrea grinned, "I'll be outside then."

"I hate you, you know," Carol called after her friend, jokingly.

"You love me. Can't help yourself," Andrea said through the closed door.

Carol shook her head with a smile, and opened the package. When she finished, she capped the test, put the stick on the counter, and re-did her pants. With the sound of the toilet flushing, she heard Andrea's voice from the other side of the door.

"I'm really glad to have you back, you know," Andrea said.

Carol moved over to the door and leaned her forehead against the cool, hard wood. She imagined Andrea on the other side with her back leaned against the door, her head tilted back and pressed against the wood. "I'm glad to be back too," Carol said under her breath.

Moments passed and Carol stayed like that until she heard Andrea pushed off the door and step away. "Has it been three minutes yet?"

"It doesn't matter," Carol replied, "the test will be negative."

"You still have to look to find out."

"Oh fine," Carol said turning and moving to the counter. A bright pink plus sign stared up at her. "Fuck," she said, drawing the word out under her breath into multiple syllables and feeling very much like Daryl when she said it. Tears sprang into her eyes at the sight of it, loss filled her heart that Daryl wasn't here for this moment, and then hope welled up throughout her body at the thought of his baby growing inside of her.

Andrea knocked at the door, "you alive in there?"

Carol's feet were stuck to the floor and she couldn't move. Her hand went to her stomach, resting on the smallest swell of fat that never went away after her pregnancy with Sophia; her skin tingled with the knowledge that somewhere beneath her hand was another baby, Daryl's baby.

"Carol?," Andrea said, her voice small. "Are you okay? Am I wrong?"

Carol smiled, suddenly light-headed. She picked up the stick and moved to the door. Opening it, she smiled at her friend. "You're not wrong." Carol's voice was small and she held the stick out to her friend, for her to see.

Andrea giggled, a delightful sound. "Oh Carol!," she said and enveloped Carol's small frame into a hug. "You're going to need to eat more, lady!"

"What am I going to do?," Carol said softly in Andrea's ear, her voice shaking with fear suddenly at the thought of doing this alone. "Without Daryl… without him here?"

Andrea held Carol tighter and whispered, "he is here… he's just… growing inside of you instead of being all up in your face annoying you with his disgruntled grunts and disdainful silences."

Carol laughed pulling back from Andrea to look her in the face. "Hey, I loved those disdainful silences."

Andrea grinned. "Do you think the baby will come out grunting and glaring?"

"Oh God, I hope so," Carol said stepping back and away from Andrea. She smiled at her friend and nodded, "thank you, Andrea… for making me do this."

"That's what friends are for. And you know, Carol… you're not alone in this. I'm here for you. You know that. We are all here for you. For you, and for Rose, and for this new little one."

Carol hugged herself and smiled. Her internal struggles with sadness and depression at losing Daryl, crushing slightly under the onslaught of hope and joy at getting to keep a piece of him forever. _I love you, Daryl… always and forever. _


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N – Thanks for the reviews! I can't tell you how much I appreciate them! You are all so great! Here's another update for today. :)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 58 – Time to Remember<p>

It has been two months since his dream about the woman, and he hasn't stopped thinking about her since. He knew her name was Carol and she loved him – needed him – but remembered little else. He wondered who she was to him, and how he could find her. She consumed him. He bided his time in leaving though, not because he didn't want to leave, but because he needed time to finish healing, and to gather stuff he'd need when he was on his own.

He was ready now though. He didn't know where he would be going, but he was determined to go, determined to find Carol. He was in the middle of packing his bag, and after he planned to go and tell Ron and April. He was shoving clothes and supplies into a bag he'd taken from a small town when he heard her approach. His back was to the door but he was adept at observing his surroundings even when he wasn't looking.

"You're leaving," April said; it wasn't a question.

Daryl turned to her. He had worked hard over the last two months to never lead the girl on. To never make her think that something might happen between the two of them. He wasn't interested, he'd never be interested. His heart belonged to Carol, and now he just needed to find her, needed to remember who he was with her, through her.

"Ya knew I would… 'ventually," he said simply. He wouldn't make apologies for it. He was doing what had to be done, what was best for him. The girl and her father would be fine without him; they'd been fine without him before. He was grateful for their help, for their taking care of him when he couldn't do it himself, but he didn't feel indebted. He'd never promised a lifetime of servitude for their help and they'd never asked him to. He figured Ron had seen him leaving for months now; it was just April who didn't want to see it coming.

He watched her standing there, watched the emotions play across her face.

"No, I didn't know. And I don't see why you have to. We've been good to you. We took care of you when no one else cared to. Hell, we brought you back from the dead. I don't understand how you can be so damn ungrateful like this. I mean, seriously. What is so wrong with us? So wrong that you have to leave… and to chase some pipe dream you have? I don't get it. You don't even know that this woman exists. Don't you even care about us, about my dad, about me? What's wrong with me, Daryl…," she ranted angrily. She spat the last word out at him and then stopped cold, her face going pale and her lips tightening in a thin line. She looked down at the floor.

Recognition flashed through him at the name as it crossed her lips. "Wha'?," he said, his eyes narrowing. "The fuck ya jus' say?" He moved forward, grasping her upper arm angrily and pulling her toward him. "How the fuck ya know my name?"

She wouldn't look up at him and he was enraged, the anger bubbled up and he let go of her, stalked without warning over to a corner of the room and slammed his fist against the wall. He whirled to face her again, seething. "Fuckin speak, bitch."

April sighed, dug her hand in her back pocket and produced a small slip of paper, holding it out to him. He took it, didn't open it, just glared at her.

"How long ya had this?," he said.

"Does it matter?," she asked.

"Fuck, ya know it do," he growled.

"I found it in your pants… the day we found you," April said.

"Ya fuckin' lied, this whole time… nothin' but fuckin lies," he said.

"No," she said, "I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you."

"Ya fuckin' lied. Don't try and talk yer ass 'round it," he spat.

April sighed. "Fine, I lied. But I did it for you, Daryl. I thought… I thought we could make you happy. You don't know where your people are, you don't even know if they're alive. I thought you could stay here, be with us… be with me." Tears sprang into her eyes.

Daryl shook his head. He didn't care if she cried. He wouldn't feel sorry for this, wouldn't feel sorry for her. He looked down at the tiny slip of paper, opened it.

_Daryl,_

_Don't worry. I'll be fine. I love you. _

"It's not even signed," April said softly. "It's not like I even knew who could have written it. Or even when it was written. It could have been written years ago for all I knew. This isn't my fault."

_Like hell it ain't. _He was so pissed. He read the words on the paper again. He recognized the message, he could remember when he'd read it last. Carol had written it for him. The day she left for her first and last supply run without him… the supply run that was cut short… cut short by the car crash, Alex dead, and Carol and Andrea taken by Merle. With the memory of it – of this note – their names and their faces flooded through his mind, like a movie he hadn't seen in a while but could still remember the words to.

Before she had left for the run, she had written the note and tucked it into his pocket without him knowing. He'd found it while he hunted that day, before he'd gotten back and saw Glenn returning alone. He remembered reading it in the middle of the woods, the warmth her love had filled him with, and the excitement he felt about the expectation of seeing her again later that day. He'd kept the note; maybe because he had forgotten about it; or maybe because he liked her neat, flowing, graceful handwriting, because he liked the way it reminded him that she loved him.

He snarled at the girl in front of him. "I 'ppreciate what ya'll done for me, but ya had no right, no fuckin right, to keep this from me. Ya can't fuckin hold people hostage, fuck with they minds. It ain't right." He shook his head at her angrily.

"I know," she said weakly.

More memories flooded through Daryl. He snatched up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. "I got a daughter, ya know. Jus' a tiny babe. Rose. And ya kept me from 'er," his voice was cold as he spoke, and he moved, striding past her. She reached out, grabbed his arm, but he yanked it harshly away from her grip. "Don't ya fuckin' touch me."

And then he was out the door, moving fast; his purpose clear as he moved past Ron, sparing only a glance and a nod at the man. Daryl was going home.


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N – I am dying for a reunion here…. I promise, we are getting closer! Hang in there! Hope you like! Thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 59 – One Step Closer<p>

"I'm a cow already, Andrea… I'm a fricken cow," Carol muttered with disdain as she struggled to get up from the chair.

Andrea laughed, offering her friend a hand. Carol took it willingly, and let Andrea leverage her up and back on her feet.

Carol sighed once she was standing. Hershel guessed that she was six months pregnant now. She couldn't remember being this big at six months when she was pregnant with Sophia, but she felt huge. She was ungraceful and round and awkward in everything she did these days. She hadn't been on a hunt in a month. She had tried several times, but T-Dog and Glenn kept turning her down – "we've got it covered," they'd say, waving her off.

She still felt the familiar ache of loss each morning, and throughout the day, and in the evenings… she missed Daryl every second, but she relished the feeling of carrying his baby. The baby was active… he – she was convinced it was a boy – was constantly jabbing at her, wiggling around, kicking her in the kidneys. And he never listened when she told him to stop it. Clearly something he had inherited from his father.

When she held Rose, the baby would jab whatever part of Carol that Rose happened to be up against, jostling the nine month old and causing her to cry. Carol was sure it was the start of a budding sibling rivalry – just like a Dixon.

Carol put a hand to her belly and rubbed, humming as she moved down the hallway with Andrea. They found Maggie with Rose and baby Bethany. Bethany was two weeks old; she'd been born a couple of weeks early but was doing well. Maggie was a beautiful mother, and a natural at it. Glenn was struggling a bit, but holding his own. The poor guy had nearly vomited while changing his first diaper.

Things had changed some in the month and a half since Carol found out she was pregnant. They had met up with other groups of survivors in the surrounding area, the majority of them friendly, and the ones who weren't were easy enough to handle – either to dispatch or avoid. They were able to come up with a system of communication, a means of trade for swapping supplies and other materials that one group had and the other needed. There was even a school on the grounds within one of the nearby bases, and Carl and Astrid were able to go each week – one day only.

It was still fairly covert – they were all aware of dangers in the area with groups of people who didn't want a new law and order, schools and stores and rules on how things were dealt with and, of course, there were still walkers. The winter months, while Carol had been mourning, had slowed things down a little when it came to the threat of the undead, but now that it was spring and things were warmer and lush again – there had been reports of more attacks.

At seeing Carol enter, Rose mumbled, "ma!," and crawled her way across the floor toward Carol.

"There's my girl!," Carol said with a grin, intending to crouch down and get Rose, when Andrea put a hand on her arm.

"Why don't you let me do that… we may never get you back up again," Andrea said, bending down and lifting Rose up to hand her off to Carol.

"Gee, thanks," Carol said with a face, taking Rose and putting the child against her hip. She felt the poke against her insides as the baby pushed against the side of her stomach where Rose's leg touched.

"Ba buh," Rose said, looking down and then back up at Carol with a scowl. "Ba buh," she repeated.

"That's right, Rosie," Andrea said. "Bad baby," Andrea giggled, interpreting Rose's baby speak.

Carol shook her head, "I don't know which one of you is the worse culprit – the baby, Rose, or you!"

* * *

><p>It took Daryl two weeks after leaving Ron and April to really get his bearings. The problem was, while much of his memory was flooding back, there were still blanks where he needed answers. Where did he live? Where had they been going when he'd ended up at the bottom of a cliff?<p>

He figured he had to live somewhere around where he'd been found, so he was afraid to stray too far in case he missed it. He found some maps and made a circle around where he was… he figured he could work his way out and eventually he'd stumble upon where he belonged.

He only hoped that Carol was still there. That she was still alive. His heart told him that she was, that she must be. He felt like if this woman… with this amazing love of his that he knew he had for her and she for him, tying them together even when they were apart… if she was gone, he'd know it.

The sound of tires on gravel startled him and he turned. It was too late to hide; he was on the side of the road in plain sight. He raised his crossbow warily and eyed the vehicle, a pick-up truck, as it approached.

It rolled to a stop beside him and an older man, with salt-and-pepper hair leaned out the passenger side.

"Howdy… not from around these parts?," the man said amicably.

Daryl said nothing, just looked at him through the sights of his crossbow.

The man frowned. "You do speak English, don't-cha?" The man said something to the driver whom Daryl couldn't see clearly, and then popped the door open, stepping out onto the road.

The man approached, his hands held up in a sign of surrender, moving slowly but steadily toward Daryl.

Daryl took a chance, "ain't lookin' for trouble… jus' tryin' to find somebody."

The man halted, put his hands down at his side and nodded. "Okay, okay. Maybe it's something I can help with. We got a camp not too far up the road, plenty of people there."

Daryl lowered the crossbow slowly. He nodded, moved around to hop in the bed of the truck. The man turned back to face the windshield of the truck. Daryl saw the man shrug at the driver, and then move to climb inside the cab. Once inside, through the tiny open sliding window in the back, the man called back to Daryl, "the name's Chuck… our driver here is my wife, Sharon. We're from Camp B."

"Daryl," he offered with a nod and a glance at the pretty woman with gray hair and kind eyes at the steering wheel. "Wha's Camp B?"

"Oh you are new, ain't-cha?"

Daryl grunted and sat down with his back against the side of the truck bed. Sharon had started the engine, and Daryl braced himself as the vehicle shuddered forward. He wasn't sure what to make of these people yet, but he hoped that this was the first step in finding Carol.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60 – Things Have Changed

Daryl stared around in shock at the location Sharon and Chuck drove him to. It was literally like a small town, but hidden behind trees and a stone wall. He heard the gates close behind them, and several people moved to conceal the gate with leaves and branches. The place was organized. It was like it had been there for months, an actual functioning town in a world of chaos.

"Camp B," Daryl breathed out.

Chuck turned in his seat to look out the sliding window at Daryl. "That's right… Camp B."

"How long ya been 'ere?," Daryl asked.

"About two months. There's three other camps in this area far as I know. Camp A is not too far, done up at a golf course by the coast, we deal with them a lot; Camp C is about twenty miles from here, at the remains of the old hospital; and Camp D is a few miles from there at one of the smaller airports in the area. We communicate as much as we can, make trades, swap supplies, help each other out."

Daryl motioned questioningly to the men he saw at the side of the wall, they held guns, and they looked very much like the military as they each paced their area.

"Oh yeah… the camps get along well enough, but not everyone is all about playing nice. Plus the walkers, got plenty of them still."

The truck stopped in front of a brick building. Daryl glanced at it absently, thinking it was a school, before hopping out of the truck bed and turning his attention back to Chuck.

"Ya said, Camp A… where's that one again?"

"Camp A… Camp A… it's a golf course… right by the harbor… damn, what's the place called again…" Chuck was stepping out of the vehicle as he spoke, and he hollered out at another man on the steps of the brick building. "Dougie, what's the name of that place that Camp A is at?"

The man sitting on the steps looked up, eyed Daryl suspiciously before responding, "Jekyll Island, man."

Something inside of Daryl clicked. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, he heard an excited voice yell out, "Daryl!"

Daryl spun to his side, looking at the flood of school age children leaving the brick building's entrance, and there was Carl, standing there next to a tall, slender girl with flowing red locks. Carl was taller than Daryl remembered, still pale in the face, and no longer wearing that ridiculous hat, but the boy looked good, a huge smile on his face at the sight of Daryl.

"Is it really you?," Carl asked, approaching cautiously. The girl moved with Carl, as if she was glued to his side, and that's when Daryl remembered the girl… Astrid, the girl they'd saved from Merle's camp.

"Well, fuck," Daryl said softly in amazement as Carl reached Daryl and wrapped his arms around Daryl's waist. Daryl grunted a little uncomfortably, shifted on his feet, and patted the younger boy's back before pushing him back and away to separate them.

"We all thought you were dead," Carl said, his voice small and incredulous. "Like seriously, _everyone_ thought you were dead…. and, oh God, Aunt Carol… she's been a mess. I can't even believe it… how's anyone going to believe this…" Carl's words were running together as he rambled.

"I take it you know this fella?," Chuck said moving to stand next to Daryl.

Daryl smirked. "Ya think?" He bent down grabbed Carl by the shoulder to get his attention, "ya said Carol… she 'kay?"

Carl nodded vigorously, "oh yea, she's great! She's back home with the others. You can wait here with me until T-Dog picks us up to bring us back. It's only a couple of hours. She's going to die when she sees you!"

* * *

><p>Carol sat back in the reclining chair that Hershel had gotten for his clinic.<p>

"Alright," Hershel said entering the room with his assistant, Becka in tow. Becka was an older woman, a nurse that lived in Camp B, but liked to help out at the clinic that Hershel had built up on Jekyll Island. Carol had a sneaking suspicion that the two were seeing each other, but neither of them would admit it.

The clinic didn't have the supplies that Camp C at the hospital did, but Hershel kept what he did have orderly, and he was still Carol's favorite doctor-who-isn't-a-doctor, and he kept up her prenatal care.

It had already been decided that in a month, one of the women from Camp B – a former midwife named Karla – would come to stay with them until Carol's baby was born and assist in the delivery.

"Hey, don't start this without me, people," Andrea said coming in to stand next to Carol.

Hershel picked up the handheld doppler. He always began her exam by checking for the heartbeat, letting her listen to it for a few moments. They didn't have an ultrasound machine so she wasn't able to see the baby inside of her, but hearing the heartbeat always put her at ease. He put one end to her belly, and another to his ear so that he could find the heartbeat before switching the machine on speaker for her to hear.

Andrea smiled at Carol, motioning to Becka who was standing close enough to Hershel that their arms grazed each other.

"They're so in love," Andrea mouthed soundlessly and Carol grinned, nodded.

"Hmm." The sound that escaped Hershel's throat was clearly unintended as he glanced at Carol, meeting her eyes.

"What's wrong?," Carol said, moving to sit up.

"Just calm down now," Hershel said, moving a hand to her shoulder to stop her. He moved the circle across her belly, settled for a moment in another spot, and then murmured again, "hmm."

Andrea cleared her throat, she put a hand on her hip, and laced her other hand through Carol's hand, their fingers entwining. Carol grip was tight, clearly frightened. "What the hell, Hershel… you're scaring us half to death," Andrea snapped.

Hershel removed the circular end of the doppler from Carol's skin and looked at the two women. "Frankly, I'm not really sure here."

Carol felt sick, her heart raced frantically and she sputtered, "you're… you're… not sure?"

"Settle down, settle down. This might be out of my depth. I think it's best if maybe we take you down to see Karla at Camp B… T-Dog has to pick up Carl and Astrid anyway, and this way Karla can check you out and make sure everything is a-okay." Hershel smiled at the end of his sentence, but Carol could see the worry lines forming on his forehead.

"What aren't you telling me?," Carol asked.

Hershel sighed. "I think it's best if I don't worry you when I don't know what it is yet."

"I think she's plenty worried already, Hershel," Andrea muttered angrily, squeezing Carol's hand.

Hershel glanced at Becka who took the fetal doppler machine from him and nodded, moving out of the room wordlessly. He looked back at Carol. "I can hear the heartbeat, but there's something I'm not sure about. I need another opinion here, okay. I'm not trying to scare you, but I am trying to be honest."

* * *

><p><strong>AN – I don't want to rush the reunion so that will be next chapter… so where is Daryl? Camp B. Where is Carol going to see what is up with the baby? Camp B. Oh happy day. And don't kill me about the baby just yet, have a little faith. Thank you for the reviews and reads! **


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N – This chapter is kind of long, and with the previous one that I put up today, I probably won't get another update up until Friday. Tomorrow is Grey's Anatomy season finale day so I will be consumed by that. Again, I know I'm a broken record with this – but I really, truly appreciate you reading this and reviewing! Thank you so, so, so much for your kind words! **

**And without any further ado… :) **

* * *

><p>Chapter 61 – Always With Love<p>

"I'm coming too," Andrea snapped at T-Dog as they helped Carol get into the backseat of the car.

"Stop fighting," Carol said, "and let's just go." She heard T-Dog sigh as he shut the door, closing her in, and she knew he was caving. Andrea would have won out in the end anyway, but at least this saved them another twenty minutes of arguing when they should have been on the road.

Her hands were shaking as she sat there, she felt clammy and afraid at the thought of losing another child. A heartbeat, but something else… what the hell was this? Why did this stuff keep happening? Her mind flashed on what had happened to Lori when her baby had died. Could that happen to her? Would Carol go crazy at the loss of so many people she had loved?

Andrea and T-Dog got in the front of the car and Carol tipped her head back on her seat, staring up at the roof as the car rumbled to life and headed toward Camp B.

"It'll be okay, Carol," Andrea murmured, turning around in her seat, to reach back and grab Carol's hand. Carol lifted her head and offered Andrea a meek smile. Carol nodded at her friend, wanting Andrea to feel comforted even while Andrea was trying to comfort her.

Andrea had Hershel's notes for Karla in her lap; he had sealed them in an envelope and instructed them not to open it. It was supposed to go straight to Karla; for her eyes only. Carol's eyes flickered to the envelope and she sighed. She knew he didn't want her to worry, he had told her that it probably was nothing, but that he needed to have it checked out anyway. Somehow his words were of little comfort.

She'd been hesitating on the brink for a while now, since losing Daryl – the brink of joy at the baby, at the life the group had somehow built, and desperation at all the loss they'd endured. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened to push her over the edge. She'd already lost Daryl, and now she'd lose the last piece of him that she had left. She put her free hand to her belly, touched the taut skin there, and in her head, she prayed.

They went through the back entrance to Camp B, and T-Dog stopped in front of the clinic where Karla worked. Within minutes, Karla was there and she was helping Carol out of the car and up the stairs to the clinic. Karla stopped Andrea with a glance, "give us a minute, Andrea. I'll get you when we're ready."

"You'll be okay, Carol," Andrea said as they locked eyes. "I'll be right here waiting." Carol kept her eyes on Andrea as she was led inside the clinic.

* * *

><p>Waiting for Carl and Astrid to get done with school was proving to be a pain in the ass. Daryl was chomping at the bit, impatient to finally be at home, to finally, after all this time, see his woman again.<p>

Chuck had been kind enough to give him a tour after Carl and Astrid had to run off to their next class, but that had only taken about thirty minutes. _Place ain't that fuckin' big._ So now all he could do was sit on the steps of the school building and wait. And fantasize. Fantasize about finally seeing Carol again. Had she missed him? The thought made him laugh. He knew her. He knew she would have missed him like crazy, just like he missed her.

A commotion on the other end of the road caught his attention. A crowd of people were there, and he could see a car in the center of it. His eyes caught on a blonde head amidst the crowd… the hair tied up messily, the way the person stood there; her back to Daryl… she was familiar. Her stance, hands on her waist, her hips tilted almost cockily as she distributed her weight unevenly… _Blondie? _

He rose from his position and headed over to the crowd. As he got closer, he knew it was her, the way she kept a hand close to her gun as she stood there, and then the man next to her turned, and it was T-Dog. Daryl nearly laughed with delight, he nearly ran to them – fuck, he was so happy he could've hugged them at this point – but he forced himself to scowl as he approached.

"The fuck ya two bitches doin' 'ere?," Daryl said gruffly from behind T-Dog and Andrea as he reached them. They both whirled around at the sound, startled, not sure what or who they thought it was, but at the sight of Daryl, T-Dog howled and Andrea's hand flew to her mouth in shock.

"Holy fuck man! Where'd the hell you even come from?," T-Dog yelled, grabbing Daryl and pulling his body toward him, hugging Daryl roughly before releasing.

Daryl smirked, "eh, back from the dead, I s'pose."

Andrea had crossed her arms over her chest and she stood there just staring at him. When they locked eyes, she smiled and said, "well damn, we should've known hell would just spit you right back out. Serves us right for thinking we'd finally gotten rid of your ass."

"Well a mighty fine fuckin' 'ello to ya too, blondie," Daryl laughed with a shrug. "The fuck ya two doin' 'ere… the kid said I had a few hours 'fore ya came."

"You saw Carl?," T-Dog said. "When the hell did you get here?"

"Lil' bit ago… jus' been waitin' 'round since. Dyin' to get back to Carol." Daryl's eyes flickered to Andrea who had turned pale. "What?," Daryl asked gruffly.

Andrea cleared her throat and shifted her weight. "Carol's here, Daryl."

Daryl's first reaction was to whoop with delight, but something about Andrea's tone stopped him. "Wha's wrong?," he asked.

"Oh shit!," T-Dog said, half smiling and half covering his face in shock as some kind of recognition dawned. T-Dog looked at Andrea, "he don't even know yet!" Daryl watched a look cross over Andrea's face, but he couldn't tell what it was, what it meant. They knew something, something he didn't, and for whatever reason Andrea didn't want T-Dog to say what it was.

"Fuck ya two talkin' bout," Daryl growled, growing impatient. "The fuck is Carol? She's 'ere? Where?"

It was then that a woman spoke from the entrance of the building. "Andrea? We're ready for you."

Andrea glanced over. "Umm, yea, Karla. I just need a minute." The woman in the doorway nodded and disappeared inside. Andrea turned back to Daryl. "Uhh, Daryl… there's something you should know…"

"Fuck tha'," Daryl interrupted. He pointed toward the building, "Carol's in there ain't she? Fuck this shit, fuck waitin' 'round for ya two yokels to tell me what's goin' on." And he moved forward quickly, ignoring the look that Andrea and T-Dog gave each other as he shot by them, moving up the steps two at a time until he was at the entranceway to the building.

"Wait, Daryl!," Andrea called as she hurried up after him, but Daryl was through waiting, through listening.

"Carol!," he said loudly. "Carol!," he called out again. He caught sight of the same woman who had been in the doorway minutes before, the one who had asked for Andrea. The woman was stepping into a room down the hall, and Daryl took off after her. He jogged down the hallway, people jumping to the side as he passed, and he burst through the door that the woman had just gone through.

* * *

><p>Carol hated hospital johnnies. Those stupid outfits that doctors made you put on while they examined you. That was part of the reason she chose Hershel over going to the hospital in Camp C.<p>

She sat in the room alone while she waited for Karla to get Andrea. Karla hadn't said much; she'd brought Carol in, taken a quick measurement, written down her weight, and read through Hershel's notes. Then she'd told Carol to get undressed, to put on the johnny and to wait. Karla would get Andrea and be right back.

When Karla came back, she was alone, and before the door shut, Carol could hear some kind of ruckus out in the clinic lobby area. She heard what sounded like someone yelling a name but she couldn't make it out before the door clicked closed.

Karla smiled, moving around unhurriedly to get something from a drawer – another doppler machine. She turned to Carol, clearly about to speak, when the door burst open and someone, a man, skidded to a halt inside.

Carol's heart stopped. She was sure of it. The world went silent, even though she was sure that Karla was speaking from the way her mouth moved, but all Carol could focus on, all she could hear was the silence of her heart not beating. Because her heart couldn't be beating anymore, she couldn't possibly still be alive…because there, standing in the room, standing right in front of her… was Daryl.

"Shut the fuck up, lady," Daryl snapped at Karla and then moved to Carol.

* * *

><p>His woman stared at him, clearly in some kind of shock. The woman doctor was bitching, telling him to get out, that this was a place of medicine. <em>No fuckin' shit.<em> His first thought when he saw the medical equipment was that Carol was sick, but she looked fine. In fact, she looked beautiful. Her hair was longer, but her face… her eyes… were exactly like he remembered.

It was like someone took the air out of the room when he looked at her. He told the yapping doctor to shut up and went to Carol, realizing vaguely as he did that Andrea must have entered the room behind him and was now standing in the doorway. But he didn't care. All he cared about was Carol. The only person that mattered in this room… in this whole place… was Carol.

"Woman," he said huskily, bending so that his face was at her level. "Ya a'right?," he asked. The words seemed dumb leaving his mouth. How could she be alright? She was clearly at a medical clinic. Something had to be wrong. He cleared his voice, opened his mouth to speak, concern written all across his face.

"Daryl?," Carol whispered, her voice as sweet as he remembered it.

His face broke into a smile. She opened her mouth to say something else, but he couldn't wait. He kissed her, his lips mashing up against hers. Her mouth was greedy, her lips parting to accept his tongue; he relished the feel of her tongue fighting with his for dominance, the sweet feeling of ecstasy as she sucked his bottom lip before kissing him harder.

Her arms reached around him and without thinking he pulled her up, off the table-like seat she was sitting on. Pulled her up to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her, too involved in kissing her, in holding her, to realize that something was different. And that's when it kicked him.

Shock made his arms drop to his side and he stepped back. That's when he realized what she was wearing – practically nothing, a hospital type gown draped around her, her belly distended, and his first thought was that she must be sick, that she must be dying. He'd finally found her and she was the one dying this time. His second thought was, how can a woman who's dying look so beautiful.

"Oh!," Carol said in surprise as Daryl dropped his arms and backed away, feeling the familiar jab inside her belly that he must have felt on the outside. She put a hand to her belly where the baby had poked and smiled. She looked up at Daryl, her eyes wet as she realized that this was real, he was truly standing in front of her… and he was alive.

She took a step toward him, another step after the first and raised her arms to touch his face as she reached him. "You're alive," she said softly.

Daryl grinned at her words. Her fingers traced his face gently, and she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips softly, chastely, before pulling back.

"I can't even believe it," she murmured. And then she smiled again, a tear rolling down her cheek as she stepped back. She took his hand in hers. She placed his hand on her belly; he felt the cottony fabric of the hospital gown, the smooth tightness of her skin beneath. He felt a flutter of movement beneath his palm as she spoke, his breath catching in his throat at her words.

"Daryl," Carol began, "I want you to meet your son."


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N – I am updating today! YAY! Hope you like. It's a little short, but hopefully still good. :) Thank you for all of the reviews! I really appreciate you taking the time to read this! **

* * *

><p>Chapter 62 – Price of One<p>

A million thoughts raced through Daryl's head. A baby… his son? He'd never even thought it was possible. They had Rose, and he'd been happy enough just having her, just getting to take care of that little one. Rose was miracle enough to him. But this… this was something else.

"My son? Fuck... how the fuck this 'appen?"

Carol shot him a look, giving him a half-smile and raising an eyebrow in response.

Daryl ran a hand through his hair, huffed out a deep breath. "A'right, fuck, so I know how, a-course... but fuckin' when?"

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here, Dixon, and say before you up and died on us," Andrea spoke out sarcastically.

Daryl shot Andrea a withering glance and took Carol's hands in his own. "Chr'st, Carol… I fuckin l've ya." _We're a fam'ly. _Carol and him and Rose, and now the little one growing inside his woman. Daryl never imagined he'd have a family before he'd met Carol, and he was amazed at it now. How far they'd come, how much his love for this woman could grow and expand. She meant more to him than he'd even thought possible. He grabbed her, pulled her to him and hugged her tightly. Pulling back, he pressed his lips to hers, feeling her silken lips part as she kissed him back. His love for her was all-consuming, and he was certain hers was the same.

"I just can't believe you're really here… you're really alive," Carol said breathlessly as their kiss ended.

The woman doctor – who had been idly standing by, patiently waiting – took that moment to clear her throat. "I really hate to break this up, Carol, but unless you plan on leaving after dark or spending the night here, you'd best let me examine you."

Carol glanced away from Daryl and over at the woman. "Right, absolutely, I'm sorry Karla." Carol moved back to sit down where she'd been seated before.

Karla stepped forward and extended a hand to Daryl, "Well congratulations, daddy." She emphasized the word 'daddy' before continuing, "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Carol's midwife… I think when you burst in here you might have referred to me as 'lady' and possibly as 'bitch'… but how about from now on you can just call me Karla." Her tone was light as she said it.

He tried to look contrite, but he was having trouble focusing on what she'd said, all except for one word… _Daddy. _The word lingered in Daryl's head for a second until he had to shake his head, almost as if he was jogging the word loose, connecting the idea of it with the reality. He was a daddy, a father, a pa. He probably already was where Rose was concerned, but he hadn't really considered it before. Carol was Rose's momma, and he was just… Daryl. But maybe he was really more than that. The thought rolled around for a minute and then he allowed himself a genuine smile before it turned into his trademark smirk. He nodded at Karla. "Wha's wrong with 'er?," Daryl said, tilting his head toward Carol.

"Maybe nothing, but let me take a look." Karla motioned for Daryl to move up by Carol's head.

Carol locked eyes with Daryl and explained, "Hershel thought there might be something going on with the baby but he wasn't sure what yet, that's why we're here."

He nodded and took her hand, prepared for anything.

* * *

><p>Daryl's hand in hers created tingles all throughout her body. This was unreal. For a few moments she had forgotten to be nervous about the baby, about the whole reason that she'd come to Camp B in the first place. But now, the fear was back. The reality that anything could happen – good or bad.<p>

She glanced at Andrea in the doorway and lifted her chin at her friend, a simple gesture to ask Andrea to come in. Andrea had been wonderful all this time, and just because Daryl was here now didn't mean that Andrea couldn't be too.

Andrea smiled and went around the table that Carol sat on, so that she could stand at Carol's other side.

Daryl leaned in and kissed Carol on the top of her head and she smiled at him. "Gonn' be a'right, woman."

"You know what Daryl, it kind of already is." And she meant it. She loved the baby inside of her and she wanted more than anything to have it be okay, healthy and safe and happy; but knowing that Daryl was with her, no matter what happened, that he was hers and she was his, and that they were a family who survived and had lived through even the worst circumstances – it made everything alright. She could conquer anything, it was the first time she'd ever felt that way.

"Hmmm," Karla murmured, moving the doppler across Carol's stomach.

"Oh Christ, there's that sound again!," Andrea groaned, exasperated.

Carol would have laughed, but she felt a chill of fear lick down her spine, and she gripped Daryl's hand tighter.

"What is it?," she said to Karla.

Karla moved the piece across Carol's stomach again to another spot, listened for a moment and then removed it. She smiled softly, her eyes flickering to Carol, and then Daryl, and then Andrea. "Well this is a surprise, and frankly, I'm really shocked no one noticed earlier…"

"Wha's that s'posed to mean?," Daryl muttered, interrupting.

"If you'd shut your mouth and listen for a second, I'm sure she'd tell us," Andrea snapped at Daryl.

Carol sighed, glancing between the two, and then back to Karla who seemed amused as Daryl and Andrea continued to bicker.

"Ain't my mouth tha's ever been a problem 'ere… why'nt ya shut yer damn trap for once, blondie."

"Oh I bet you wish you could make me…," Andrea retorted.

"Fuckin right, I could."

Karla cleared her throat again, silencing the two of them. "If you don't mind," Karla said pointedly at Daryl and Andrea before continuing, "Carol… honey… there are two heartbeats. That's what Hershel heard. You're having twins."


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N – So this is a little bittersweet for me but this is the final chapter of this story. I am excited to post it, but also a little sad because now this fic is over. I hope you like the ending. Thank you so much for reading and staying with me through this journey. And it totally feels like a journey to me because no matter what else I write, this will always be the first story I did. Anyway, hope you like and please review! Thank you!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 63 – Happily Ever After<p>

Daryl woke to her pacing around the room. She was nearly eight months pregnant, and he lay there a moment, watching her walk. She wore a purple silk nightgown that he'd picked up for her last week after she'd complained that she was ugly.

"_I'm huge, Daryl… I'm a huge, hideous hippopotamus," she had moaned when he had told her how pretty she looked while cooking breakfast that morning. _

"_I thought they were hungry hungry hippos, not huge hideous hippos," Andrea had joked from the table. _

_Carol had glared at Andrea before taking a deep breath and looking at Daryl forlornly. _

Her look had broken his heart. He wasn't great with words and he wasn't that guy who made crazy, big gestures, but he loved Carol and he'd do anything to make her smile. He'd brought home the nightgown that evening from town and given it to her before bed. She had loved it; he'd made sure to pick something that felt as nice as it looked so that she could feel as pretty as she really was. She wasn't huge, or at least Daryl didn't think so. Carol was stunning. Carol was his beautiful, pregnant wife. Although not officially yet, but he didn't need a stupid ceremony to know that she was his, and he was hers.

He was amazed at how well they fit back together once he was home with her again. It was like he'd never been gone. His memories had pieced back together and he'd felt more at peace with her than he'd felt in his whole life. He still grumbled, still got pissed sometimes, and he still felt the need to be alone in the woods when everything got too much. But Carol was his rock; she was his lighthouse when he was lost at sea and couldn't find his way back.

Rose had been happy to see him when he'd come home too. Everyone had been as shocked as Carol, T-Dog, and Andrea had been. But Rose had been his favorite welcome home greeter. The minute she had seen him, she had been on the floor in the kitchen playing with some pans while Maggie cooked dinner and Daryl had appeared in the doorway, she had called out, "da da!" And the little rugrat had done the damndest thing Daryl had ever seen, she pulled herself up off the floor and toddled her way across the room to him – walking, not crawling, but walking. Her first steps… her first time actually on her feet walking, and it had been just for him.

Rose had solidified the feeling of being a father within Daryl. Hearing her call out to him, and watching her move her way over to him as fast as her unsteady chubby, little legs could carry her, he had known that he was her father. And Rose had made him realize that if he could be her father, he could be a father to the babies that Carol carried inside of her as well. Carol insisted they were both boys, that Daryl was having sons. She wanted to name the first one Merle Dixon and the second one Daryl Dixon Jr.

He watched Carol in the darkness as she moved heavily, one hand rubbing across the silk fabric that was taut over her belly, the other touching her back. The room was quiet; Rose was fast asleep in her crib. He heard Carol breathe heavily and he sat up.

"Ya 'kay?," Daryl asked, his voice concerned.

Carol stopped and looked at him. She exhaled again loudly. "I'm fine." Her voice was soft and strained.

"Don't sound fine."

Carol smiled. "It's okay. Really. I'm not ruining today."

"Ruinin'? The hell ya ruinin'? Ya ain't ruinin' nothin'," Daryl said gruffly, but quietly so as not to wake Rose, swinging his legs off the bed to stand up.

"I don't think they're real contractions, Daryl, just the fake kind. It's Maggie's wedding day. Maggie and Glenn, finally getting married after everything. She waited while I was grieving and pathetic, and then she waited until Bethany was born, and then she waited after you got back, she's waited and waited and waited. And she's getting married _today_. These babies aren't coming today."

"Not fuckin sure they's care wha' yer opinions on the matter are…," Daryl grumbled.

Carol sighed, tears popping into her eyes.

"Hey," Daryl said, moving to embrace her, to take her in his arms. The minute her belly pressed against him, he felt the kick. "Ah shush up, ya," he mumbled softly, squeezing Carol tightly against him.

* * *

><p>Carol ignored the twinges in her abdomen. She made breakfast that morning for the group, forcing herself to breathe evenly the whole time; and then she got to work on the meal for Maggie and Glenn's wedding party.<p>

She convinced herself she could make it through the day. She'd been in labor with Sophia for nearly 40 hours, and she was confident that she could make it at least twenty hours with these two. She wasn't going to take the attention away from Maggie and Glenn – not today. Not when everyone had put their attention on her for so long, taken care of her, helped her… no, not today… today was not going to be about her.

After the meal was prepped and cooking, Carol went down the hall to help Andrea, Maggie, and Astrid get ready. Becka was already there pinning up Maggie's hair. Becka had since moved to Camp A to stay with Hershel full time and was fast becoming family to the whole group.

Carol went to work doing Andrea's hair.

"Ow!," Andrea said at one point as a contraction ripped through Carol and her fingers clenched around the only thing she was holding – Andrea's hair.

Carol exhaled, "oh, I'm sorry."

Andrea turned her head to look at Carol. "Are you okay? You're a little pale," Andrea said, glancing at Becka and continuing, "doesn't she look pale, Becka?"

Becka looked worriedly at Carol and nodded.

"I'm fine," Carol said waving them off. "Just something I ate."

Andrea gave Carol an unconvinced look, but she turned her head around anyway and let Carol finish.

The wedding was everything Carol expected it to be. It was beautiful. Astrid was the maid of honor and she carried Bethany down the aisle. Andrea was a bridesmaid and she carried Rose down the aisle as a flower girl. Carol stood next to Daryl as Hershel led Maggie down the aisle, and she held Daryl's hand as Maggie and Glenn said their vows. She cried when Maggie said 'I do', but that might have been because of the pain that was quickly overtaking her.

She huffed out loud as Hershel told Glenn to kiss his bride, and Karla, who'd come to stay at Camp A until the babies were born, and was sitting next to Carol for the wedding, glanced over.

Carol smiled and shook her head at Karla. She wanted Karla to think Carol was just moved and emotional because of the wedding. Only a few more hours to go and then the wedding party would be over… only a few more hours to go.

Karla didn't seem to be buying it. When everyone rose, clapping as Maggie and Glenn took their walk down the aisle as man and wife, Karla leaned over to Carol. "Are you in labor?," her voice was matter-of-fact.

Carol grunted as her contraction heightened and then lessened. "I'm fine. Heartburn."

"Like hell," Daryl muttered and for the first time Carol realized he had been paying more attention to her during the wedding than to the actual ceremony.

Carol looked at him and frowned and then at Karla with a helpless look on her face. "I can't do this right now. It's their day."

"You know, hunnie, I really don't think they're gonna mind," Karla said softly.

Carol sighed as Karla and Daryl led her off, quietly moving away from the party and into the clinic.

* * *

><p><em>Stubborn woman.<em> Daryl couldn't help but think it when they got to the clinic and Karla checked out Carol to realize she was nearly ten centimeters dilated and having contractions every other minute.

"Ya want me to get Blondie?," Daryl asked reluctantly. He liked Andrea well enough but she was difficult, always riding his ass bout something to do with Carol or the babies ever since he'd gotten back. He'd get her if Carol wanted her there, but he wasn't about to go do it on his own accord.

Carol bit her lip and shook her head. "No, she's a bridesmaid, let her be a bridesmaid."

Daryl smiled at Carol and kissed her forehead. "I l've ya, woman. We're doin' this. Let's have them babies."

Carol grinned, her face contorting with pain at the same time but she wouldn't cry out. That wasn't who she was. Carol was quiet, she was strong, and she took the pain.

"Ya scream if ya gotta," Daryl said, "blame me for shit, wha'ever. Tell me I'm a bastard."

Carol giggled at that. "But you're not a bastard, Daryl Dixon, you're a good man," she said softly and tilted her head up to him as he brought his face down to hers and kissed her. Her lips were soft and enticing on his for a moment before her hand tightened on his own and he pulled away as another contraction hit her.

"Okay, let's do this," Karla said from her seat at the end of the table.

Daryl held Carol's hand as she pushed. He brushed the hair out her eyes, and kissed her cheek as their first baby was born.

"It's a boy," Karla said, wrapping the baby up in a cloth, clearing the airways until the baby howled at being out in the world. "Here," Karla said handing the baby off to Daryl.

Daryl looked down at his son and felt his heart clench. The baby was so tiny; Daryl could have held him in one hand if he'd wanted to. The baby's eyes fluttered, open, close, open, and Daryl saw the brilliant blue in them that Carol had, that Sophia had had. He moved over to Carol's head. "Our first boy, woman… lil' Merle Dixon, jus' like ya wanted."

Carol smiled at him, moving in to kiss the baby on the head. "He's perfect, Daryl, and Merle would be so proud."

"Carol, I need you to push again," Karla said. Carol smiled at Daryl and baby Merle again, her eyes shiny with tears but sparkling with joy at the same time.

Daryl leaned in and kissed Carol again, their lips meeting briefly before he pulled away so she could push.

"It's a… girl," Karla said.

Carol was exhausted but she glanced at Daryl with a look of surprise when she heard. "Well… I could've sworn…," she said meekly.

Daryl grinned now, "Rose got a sister… and ya was wrong, so I gits to name 'er." Daryl smirked and Carol laughed despite her exhaustion. He waited until Karla was done with the rest of what Carol needed, and then he moved over to her.

Karla was finishing wrapping the baby. The girl didn't cry, but she squeaked, gurgled, and made the sweetest sound Daryl had heard… too little for a laugh, but the most perfect acknowledgement of happiness at being in the world that Daryl had ever seen. "She's a beauty… they both are," Karla said handing the baby girl off to Daryl so that he cradled two babies, one in each arm. "I'll go tell the others and get Rose for you," Karla said softly, moving past Daryl and leaving the room.

Daryl went over to Carol, now sitting tiredly, but less awkwardly on the table, and passed her the baby girl to hold. Carol took her baby girl in her arms and Daryl watched as the baby girl's eyes fluttered open to reveal her steely gray eyes.

Carol looked up at Daryl, "so what's her name?"

Daryl smirked with pride, "Daisy… Daisy Sophia Dixon."

"I love you, Daryl," Carol said. "And I'm so glad that I met you… you've completed my life in ways I didn't even think possible after losing Sophia. I feel so lucky to have you."

Daryl leaned in, holding baby Merle, and kissed Carol hard on the mouth. "I'm the lucky one… ya changed me, Carol. Made me a better man, fixed me up and loved me like no one else. Yer my world, jus' you, and Rose and these two lil' ones. Yer all I ever need. Can do anythin' long as it's with ya."

"Oh Daryl," Carol murmured, putting a free hand to the back of his neck and pulling him toward her.

He stopped short of kissing her though and said huskily, "ya gonn' marry me now, woman?"

Carol moved so that her lips were a breath away from his, "I'll marry you tomorrow, Daryl… hell, get me Hershel and I'll marry you right now… just kiss me."

And he did, pressing his lips to hers and kissing the love of his life, the woman of his dreams, the mother of his babies, and his soon to be wife, with everything he had, with all the love that he felt in his heart, and it was perfect. It was love.


	64. Final Author's Note

** THIS IS AN AUTHOR'S NOTE AND NOT A CHAPTER**

Hello Faith, Hope, and Love Readers!

Thank you for reading this story. Your reviews and comments have meant so much to me. I was given the idea for a spin-off to this story by a fellow FanFiction member (THANK YOU **Viking Death March**!) and I've decided to see where it takes me. I'm sorry for the "fake update" by posting this but I wanted to let any former readers of this fic know that the spin-off is out there in case anyone is interested.

If you enjoyed Daryl and Carol's journey in Faith, Hope, and Love, please check out my new fic from the viewpoint of young Daisy Dixon titled "Because Love Never Dies".

Thank you!


End file.
